


Your Silence Speaks Volumes

by phantomofthewinchester



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Broken Bones, Character Death, Clubbing, Hospitals, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Kidnapped Stiles, Kissing, M/M, Mute Stiles, POV Derek Hale, POV Stiles, Pack Bonding, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Derek, Slow Build, Stiles Stilinski Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Threats, Threats of Violence, Torture, Waterboarding, spiked drinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-08-04
Packaged: 2018-09-19 00:47:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 21,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9410243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomofthewinchester/pseuds/phantomofthewinchester
Summary: A night of "Pack Bonding" ends with the result of a missing Stiles. The Sheriff and the pack work tirelessly to try and find him, with very little result. Stiles tries to help his own rescue as much as he can, but is inflicted with a lot of torture from his kidnappers. Although he tries not to cave, information on Derek and his pack is pulled from him, leaving Stiles severely damaged mentally and physically.Derek is the most helpful when it comes to Stiles' recovery. A slow build Sterek fic. (If anyone is interested I drew a quick Sterek fanart over on my Insta: https://www.instagram.com/p/BRT2ObCj1U7/?taken-by=roonilisourking&hl=en )





	1. The Nights a Wasting

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter mainly sets the scene. There is a trigger warning in this chapter that some drinks may have been spiked. Enjoy!

Not for the first time, an argument had broken out at a pack meeting. Only this time it was the whole pack against one.

“Are any of you even old enough to go to a club?” Derek wondered aloud, his eyebrows raised.

“Calm down, Dad” Stiles could barely suppress his laughter at this comment, the rest of the pack having much less control of it. Scott bumped Stiles with his shoulder and whispered “I'm kink shaming you” in his ear. None of the pack caught this exchanged, but Scott's words made Stiles visibly blush and his heartbeat spike up a beat. 

Derek glared at the group of teenagers, seriously contemplating his recent life choices. “Stop avoiding the question! How are you even going to get into a club?”

“I'll have no trouble with these bad boys” Erica said shaking her chest slightly and winking at Derek, who struggled to not laugh along with the others.

“But seriously --”

“I though Alpha's were supposed to be smart?” Jackson's voice chimed in, laced full of sarcasm. Derek turned to face Jackson, his eyes red and dangerous. The Beta clearly regretting the level of sarcasm he choice.

“Woah there, Der-Bear” Stiles got between them, pushing them apart. Derek heard his heartbeat rise, was Stiles still scared of him?

“We have fake ID's.” Lydia stated, starting to get fed up of the roundabout conversation. “Besides, this place doesn't check that thoroughly, they really don't care.”

“Sounds classy” Boyd snickered.

Derek sighed. “Fine. When are we doing this?”

“Tonight!” They all laughed. Derek thought they were a little too dressy for a meeting.

“Let's just get out of here, this place is creepy.” Allison clearly wasn't impressed with the warehouse.

They all made their way outside, the non Werewolves already starting to walk.

“Guys the club isn't exactly close, why are we walking?” Scott asked.

“I wanna get my drink on, Scotty” Stiles practically sang.

“Wolves can't get drunk, idiot. We can drive us” Jackson sounded impatient, yet slightly amused.

They all looked to each other, trying to mentally figure out how driving was going to work.

“Exactly” Stiles flung his arms up “ Only two of you have cars, and they are fancy with minimal seating”

“Who said I'd even take my car” Derek shot at him.

“Well, Scott can drive my car?” Allison suggested, beaming at her boyfriend and handing him the keys.

“Yeah, I don't mind driving, who's coming in this car?”

“Well Allison obviously” Lydia said “And I will go with her”

“I'm going with Lydia” Jackson put his arm around her as he stated this.

“We need you to drive, dumb-ass” Stiles rolled his eyes.

“Well, us girls will stick together” Erica laughed “Shotgun!”

“You can't shotgun my car, get in the back”

“Sorry man” Scott shrugged at Stiles.

“And dude if you are getting drunk, then you are not getting in my car.” Jackson pointed at Stiles. “I'll take Boyd, and Isaac can fit too”

“Looks like you are stuck with me, Sourwolf.”

Derek rolled his eyes at the nickname. “Do I have to take my car to some nasty club, that lets in under-age kids?”

“You can take the Jeep if you want?”

“The nights a wasting, gentlemen.” Erica shouted, running towards Allison's car, still trying to claim shotgun. 

Stiles threw Derek his key and headed towards his beloved vehicle.

It was strange to see Derek driving the Jeep. Stiles kept looking over at him and almost jumped at the realization that Derek had noticed.

“What?”

“Sorry its just weird to see you driving my car. I mean you, Derek Hale, in my car. Derek Hale, driving the Jeep. Derek Hale”

“I am aware of my name” Derek had a hint of a chuckle “Concentrate on the road because I don't know where I am going”

“Oh shit. You were relying on me?”

“Stiles!”

“I thought you were following Scott or Jackson! I can't tell where we are otherwise I'd direct you”

All Derek could do was slowly blink, of course he shouldn't have relied on Stiles for direction. Neither Jackson nor Scott were visible in front, they had gotten a head start when he couldn't get the Jeep started on the first try.

“Can't you do some Alpha thing/ Like follow their scents or heartbeats?”

If looks could kill, Stiles would be six feet under by now. “Sorry” Stiles mumbled.

Derek felt sorry for him, it wasn't really his fault. He took one hand of the wheel to retrieve his phone from his jeans pocket.

“Here. Use GPS”

“Pass code?”

“24601”

“AHAHA! Alright Jean Val Jean”

“I didn't think you would have watched that film?”

“Ah see, that's a guilty pleasure. I love a musical” Stiles practically beamed causing Derek to genuinely smile. “Woah you gotta warn a guy before doing that! And besides you don't look like the musical type either”

With the help of Derek's phone they arrived at the club only 10 minutes later than everyone else.

“What took you so long?” There was a slight hint of worry evident in Scott's voice.

“Derek made the mistake of letting me know he wanted directions half way through the journey.”

“Rookie mistake, dude” Scott laughed, clapping Derek on his shoulder.

“Come on!!” Erica incredibly impatient to get inside.

*******************************

Once inside the pack made there way straight to the dance floor. All of them jumping and singing as loud as they could. Derek joined them but couldn't bring himself to jump or sing. 

As the night wore on those who could get drunk, did. Even some of the Werewolves seemed to be tipsy. Derek eventually sat at the bar and watched, he felt more like a chaperone. They should have gone bowling.

“Heeeeeeey, Sourwolf” Stiles was a happy level of drunk. “come and daaanceee” or maybe he had had one too many. He grabbed Derek's hand and he could sense Stiles accelerated heartbeat. 

“Stiles, I think maybe you should have a glass of water, or maybe three.” He asked the bar staff for some water and pressed it into Stiles' hand. “Drink this” Derek sighed “Then I will dance with you”

Stiles downed the glass of water like there was no tomorrow, then slammed it down on the counter. He grabbed Derek's arm and pulled him over to the rest of the group.

They danced for a couple of songs before Stiles' bladder got the better of him. He mentioned this to someone in the group before hurrying to the restroom. 

“Hey guys, I think I'm going to take Allison home, she must have overdone it a bit” Scott looked around the group. “Anyone else coming with? Wait. Where is Stiles?”

“He went to the toilet.”

“Ok, well, keep an eye on him. He tends to wonder when he is drunk.” Scott chuckled, but there was an edge to it, he was obviously worried about his friend.

“wait, Scott, I'll go and check if he is in there before you go.” Isaac ran over to the Men's.

“Scott—Teeee. Tee.” Allison was drunkenly hanging onto Scott. “Huh? Tee-Tee” She started laughing and patting Scott's pecks before collapsing. 

“She only had one drink! Maybe someone spiked it? She isn't this much of a lightweight” Erica stared worryingly and Allison bundled in Scott's arms. 

Isaac ran back over to the pack, distress etched across his face. “Guys, he wasn't there, but this was.” He held out the converse to the group, it was the same shoes Stiles was wearing this evening. 

“Scott, take Allison home. Erica and Boyd, search the perimeter of the club. Jackson, take Lydia and search the inside. Isaac, we will check over the toilets, see if we can figure out where he has gone.” The authority in Derek's voice ensured that everyone remained calm and obeyed each order. “He probably has just wondered off, he isn't exactly sober, Scott keep ringing him till you get an answer.”

They searched for half an hour with no result. Scott had left Allison with his mother, knowing she was in safer hands with someone with medical training. Lydia was the only non wolf remaining, so Jackson took her to be with Allison before they started their search again. 

“I need to call his Dad” Scott was really struggling to keep his cool now. “This doesn't seem right, this isn't like he just walked off. I mean he left a shoe! He isn't stupid, that must mean something?”

*********************************

Stiles reached the toilets and took care of business. His alcohol induced brain didn't register that someone stood in the corner of the room.

“Well, this is disappointing.” The voice was rough but strangely familiar. “I was hoping for one of your clawed friends to be here”

“Who the hell are --” Stiles turned from the sink to face the stranger. “Wait aren't you --”

“I guess we can make do with you, Mr. Stilinski”. The man nodded every so slightly.

“What?” The force to the back of his head came quickly and knocked him to the floor. Before he was enclosed in the realm of unconsciousness, Stiles managed to kick off his right shoe; unnoticed by the man walking towards him but surely noticeable for a wolf. Darkness surrounded him.


	2. Officially Missing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A trigger warning here for violence.

The Sheriff arrived at the club twenty minutes after Scott got off the phone with him.

"Tell me everything, now Scott.” Grief and stress radiated off of the man. “Please, I need to find my Son.”

Scott was full of sincerity in saying “We will find him. I'm still hoping he has just wondered off.”

Sheriff Stilinski set up a perimeter and had people searching. Derek had instructed his pack to help, hoping that their keen senses would speed up the process. As he was the last person they knew who spoke to Stiles, Derek stayed to talk to the sheriff. 

Scott had finished explaining all he knew, including the bits about Allison possibly ben spiked. Although concerned about this detail, it was evident that it was low on the Sheriff's priorities. Derek gave his statement, wishing there was some way to ease mental anguish in the same way he can physical pain. He knew all too well the pain of losing family.

“At least the last thing he drank was water.” The Sheriff sighed. “How drunk was he, exactly?”

“He wasn't blind drunk, more just a happy buzz, I think?” Scott looked to Derek for help, all he could do was nod in agreement.

“And no one saw him leave? What was this place doing letting in underage people?!” Understandably the Sheriff was not able to overlook this information. “Hale, why did you allow them to all come here?”

“I – “

“In his defence, Mr. Stilinski, we all outnumbered him. He's not to blame for this.”

Mr. Stilinski closed his eyes and slowly nodded, his lips pressed together in a hard line. He turned to walk away. “All of you, let me know if you hear anything. We can't treat this as missing persons yet.”

*

“Well, well, Mr. Stilinski. Welcome back to the land of the conciousness.”

The situation was enough to sober anyone, yet the smack to the back of his head hindered this. Stiles realised he was laying on his back in some basement. He tried to get up, instantly regretting that decision.

The figure who addressed him earlier rose from the steps and moved towards Stiles. “Mr. Argent? The Principle?”

“Oh Gerard is fine, considering the arrangement we have here.” He bent down and grabbed the collar of Stiles' shirt, pulling him up off the floor. 

He staggered to his feet, very ungracefully, and tried to take in his surroundings. Gerard roughly grabbed his face and forced them into eye contact. “Now, Now, Stiles, don't make me blindfold you. I can oblige in sensory deprivation if you'd like?”

Stiles jerked his head free from the old man's hold. “What are you, like 90? I could take you.” Stile pushed Argent out of the way and made for the staircase, it being the closest and most logical escape route. He didn't get far before a tug at shirt collar again. Gerard slammed him into the concrete wall and pinned him there with an arm across his neck. His expression looked slightly amused, which worried Stiles more than if he had looked angry.

“Think carefully, Mr. Stilinski, was that really wise?” His tone was calm and unnerving, Stiles really hoped this was just a scare tactic and he would be released soon. “I've read your records from school and I know you are intelligent. So use that brain power of yours and don't test me!” Gerard punctuated the end of his statement with a punch to Stiles' face. 

******************************

Derek returned to the men's toilets of the club, with Scott and the Sheriff. Since the place had now been emptied it may be easier to spot any details overlooked due to the pungent smells and obscene music.

“I wish Isaac had left the shoe, it would have been of more use where it was.” Anyone in Isaac's situation would have picked up the shoe in panic, unless they were a professional. He did describe in as much detail as he could remember so they could place it back under the row of sinks.

The Sheriff started taking photos, whilst the two wolves looked around for anything else.

“The way the shoe fell, if Isaac has remembered correctly, suggests he was laying on the floor when it was removed. And I doubt not even someone pissed would voluntarily get down on this floor.” No one wanted to think what this deduction could actually mean.

Scott stood in front of the sinks, deep in thought. “Maybe he was – “ He paused, the inner conflict of not wanting to say it in front of his best friends father and wanted to help.

“Yes, son?” The Sheriff urged, any theory is a step closer to Stiles.

“Do you think, maybe, he was hit over the for the second time that evening. There was a dull ache across his left cheekbone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He attempted to touch his cheek but quickly found that his hands were secured behind his back, with rope.head? I mean if he just passed out that wouldn't explain the shoe, right?” He looked between Derek and Mr. Stilinski, not wanting to be correct, but wanting to at least have something.

Derek glared at the shoe, willing it to suggest anything. He wasn't the parental figure that the group made him out to be, but he was still their Alpha. Poor defenseless, not counting the sarcasm, Stiles. He should never have been put in this position. Derek felt responsible, guilt was burning through him.

He followed a path from the shoe to the stalls, with his eyes. Something minuscule had caught his eye, he crouched to get a better look.

“Derek, what have you – “ He held out his hand to quieten Scott. What he had spotted was a speck of recently spilled, but dried out blood. “Stiles' Blood”

********************************

Stiles awoke from unconsciousness for a second time that evening. There was a dull ache across his left cheekbone and the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. He attempted to touch his cheek but quickly discovered that his hand were secured behind his back, with rope. _Great the more I move, the more this will hurt._ At least he was sat in a chair this time and not laying on the floor.

“Shall we try this again? Now you can't run, maybe you will listen?”

Stiles couldn't stand to have the taste of blood in his mouth much longer. He spat on the floor, reveling in the disgusted look on Gerard's face. “Is this the part where you give your super villain monologue?”

Gerard raised his hand as if to hit Stiles across the face, causing him to flinch slightly. “You catch on quick, kid. No stupid comments, no hits to the face.” Stiles had read something about Enhanced Interrogation Techniques before, this technique being the 'Insult Slap'.

“Now I know you aren't scum like your little friends, so I won't take extreme measures with you. But be warned, Stilinski, I want results. Quickly.”

“Look I don't know what you are talking about – “ **WHACK**

“More stupid comments, more slaps across the face. Are we clear?” Stiles' face contorted with anger as he averted his eyes. Gerard grabbed him by the collar, with both hands, and puled him closer. The Attention Grasp. This startled Stiles into looking straight at his captures strangely calm eyes. “Are. We. Clear?”

Stiles nodded, causing Gerard to raise his eyebrows. “Yes, sir.” His voice barely audible, since he was drenched in fear.

“Now, what I want from you Stiles, is information on Derek Hale and his little pack. Can you tell me anything?”

“I don't know anything, why would he tell me? I'm human, remember?”

“Yes, see this is why our plan had been to capture yourself and young Mr. McCall. You see, you were supposed to drink the beverage I had spiked for you. But my dear granddaughter appears to have taken the bullet for you, or so I'm told.” Stiles widened hid eyes in shock. “Scott was supposed to take you home, where we would have intercepted you.”

“Then why were you in the bathroom?” The question poured out of his mouth before he could stop it. Expecting a slap or a punch, he flinched. Gerard only laughed at this.

“That's when we altered the plan, a flimsy plan ye, but a plan none the less. We hoped at least one wolf would accompany you to the restroom.”

“If you knew the whole pack was there, why bother with any of this?” This time did get punished, by a fist to the abdomen.

Stiles gasped for breath, the wind was knocked out of him. He struggled to get his breathing under control as Gerard continued to speak. “Think boy, we couldn't go in unprepared. We need information first. So we can hit the weak points of the pack, and that's what you are Stiles. A weak point, probably the weakest. And we intend to use that to our advantage.” He adjusted his leather glove. “We had hoped that one of Derek's pups would be with you, since they would squawk to save you. It will be a little trickier to get you to talk alone. But it can be done.”

The head Argent moved to untie Stiles from the chair. He removed the restraints from the chair to a metal rig from the ceiling. He retied the roped so Stiles stood with his arms above his head.

“This is just the beginning. This here is known as a Stress Position. It causes mild discomfort from extended muscle use. Now this will lead to Sleep Deprivation, you won't be able to drift off whilst this uncomfortable. But in case you do, our friend here will ensure you stay up.”

Gerard headed for the stairs. “Goodnight Mr. Stilinski and, erm, sleep well.” His chuckle went straight through Stiles as he watched the old man disappear from view. The basement was filled with darkness, when the lights were flipped off.

It was at this point that Stiles started to cry.


	3. Please Pick Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger for Torture

They had no choice but to get some sleep at about 4am; they had no new leads. Scott and the rest of the pack had to be in school for 8am, despite their protests.

“We will let you know if we hear anything, Scott. But for now you'll have to go to school.” The Sheriff has evidently not slept at all. “Besides, someone will need to catch him up on school work. If we... When we find him.”

Scott left reluctantly, it was hard enough that his best friend was missing, but seeing his father figure falling apart was harder still. Derek stayed behind to help the Sheriff, any air of awkwardness between them pushed aside for the sake of finding Stiles.

Derek always found social situations hard, but this was something he, unfortunately, had experience with. He made two cups of coffee and joined the grieving father.

“I know it's pointless to tell you to sleep, so here's some coffee.”

“Thanks.” He muttered. They sat and drank in silence. “I don't understand why someone would take my son, my boy. I can't...” Tears started to spill down his face and he buried his face with his hands in frustration. 

“It's only been 6 or so hours. Lydia was missing for two days and she turned up. We will find him.” Derek went to put his hand on Mr. Stilinski's arm but thought better of it.

The Sheriff nodded. Spread across the table were all the notes he had collected. He was staring at them, hoping something would jump out and tell him the answer.

“You know, if he was here he would be telling me all of his theories.” His laugh didn't quite reach reach his eyes. “It's too quiet.”

Although it had only been hours since his disappearance, the void it created in their lives multiplied this. The two men continued to sit in silence, the Sheriff's eye not focused; staring into space.

“I think I'll go explore again, maybe we've overlooked something?” Derek slowly arose from the table, getting prepared to leave. There wasn't much hope of finding more clues, but he couldn't just sit around.

“Derek, I appreciate all your help... But why are you helping?” The sadness in his eyes bore into Derek.

“I know what it's like to lose family. It's not happening again.”

*************

Ice cold water cascaded down his body. Every time he managed to slip into sleep, this action met him. Gerard was there to greet him this time, his twisted and sadistic smile was a form of torture in itself.

“Are you ready to give me some information?” Stiles' arms were still painfully hitched above his head. His clothes damp and uncomfortable, were water was constantly thrown at him. The burn of thirst and hunger was starting to set in.

“I might think about it, if you let me use a toilet.” Stiles' voice cracked, it didn't feel like his own. “Or are you going to make me piss myself?”

“We aren't animals, Mr. Stilinski, of course we will give you scheduled toilet breaks.” Gerard started to approach him, Stiles stood his ground. The old man patted him on the head as he whispered: “We are helping each other, remember? You tell me what I need to know and I – “ He tugged harshly at Stiles' hair, causing him to yelp. “ – won't have to kill and innocent teenager.”

He untied the restraints, Stiles' arms dropping to his sides; unable to contain any sounds of pain. Turns out the place he was being held in had a functioning toilet. He was forced to urinate with a chaperone watching. “Well this isn't awkward. Could you step back there buddy?”

Stiles was thrown unceremoniously back into the room, Gerard had a foot shackle waiting. “Now, Stiles, if you tell me everything you know, I can let you go. In fact, you can walk away right now.” Stiles glanced up at the staircase as he was pulled over to the old guy.

“Anything I tell you, you're going to use to kill my friends, right?”

“Those 'friends' are filthy wolves. You will make new friends.”

“I'm not going to help you murder.”

“Fine.” Gerard secured the shackle around the boys shoe-less foot. “Food will be brought to you, for now I'm returning to the school.

Stiles was running out of time, he thought desperately of a way to get a message out to someone. Whilst Gerard was still crouched down to his level, Stiles took his chance. With as much force as he could he kicked out with his free leg, hitting Gerard in the face.

As his capture clutched at his face in pain, Stiles pulled at his chains desperately. His plan wasn't to escape, but the fear of his consequences activated his flight instinct. All he wanted was to mark Gerards face, to give a clue to Scott or anyone. 

The head Argent slowly removed his gloved hand fro, his face, he was livid. Frantic with his movement, Stiles tried his hardest to free himself, attempted to get as far from him as possible. He stopped only when Gerard raised a hand, provoking Stiles to raise his arms in front of his face for protection.

The old man said nothing whilst he removed the offending shoe, throwing it across the room. Standing up, he didn't relinquish eye contact. Panic had made its way to the surface. Chest constricting, chest heaving. He couldn't breathe. 

“I will return at lunch period.” His foot cam down hard and fast, breaking Stiles' foot. He screamed out in agony, wanting this to end. Quickly.

*****************

After he found nothing around the club that could lead to their missing pack member. Derek decided to visit the rest of the group at school. They were obviously still discussing every theory they could think of. Hearing them could be useful.

They arranged to meet somewhere they couldn't be spotted by the Argent's eyes. “Have you found something?” They all surrounded their Alpha, drowning him in questions.

“It's pointless us being here.” Erica whined. “We could be helping!”

“We can't risk that, not with the Argents controlling the school.”

“Stiles is more impor – “ Derek rose his hand to stop Scott. He could hear the heavy gait of an approaching force. He ducked out of sight as the figure approached.

“Ah, Mr. McCall.” Their Principals voice drawled, as he strode towards the group of teenagers. Derek listened from the bushes. He could just about see the exchange between Principal and students.

“I was sorry to hear about your friend.... Stiles.” Derek's chest tightened hearing the Argent leader talk about Stiles. Although he listened intently to his heart beat, it didn't falter at all.

“What happened to your face?” Jackson started strong, but Gerards intense gaze made him trail off into a murmur. “Sir.”

“Nothing that concerns you, Mr. Whittemore.” Again, Derek strained to hear any trace of a tell in the man's heartbeat. “Class is starting soon. Chop, chop.” He stared them down until they dispersed. As he turned, Derek swore he saw the tell tale signs of a forceful hit to the face. It would make sense for the Argents to be behind this.

****************

“How are we fairing, Mr. Stilinski?” Gerard walked around Stiles as he addressed him. The pain from having his foot broken was ingrained in his expression.

His eyes were bloodshot and dark circles were already starting to form. A fierce bruise had formed from when Gerard had first punched the boy across the face. The lack of sleep and the throbbing discomfort was really starting to affect him, he was only human after all. “I may have a few complaints.”

“I'm sorry I didn't join you for lunch, but a few students required my.... Attention.”

Stiles let out an involuntary gasp, the only reason he was putting up with this was to protect them. What if he's already gotten to them? Does that now mean he is disposable?

“Oh please” it was like the old man could read his mind. “Some students broke a window. I am still a principal. I told you I can't touch the pack without your information.” He stepped in front of Stiles and applied pressure to his broken foot. He tried so hard not to show pain, but failed. “Are you ready to share?”

Gerard retrieved a chair from somewhere in the room and forced Stiles into it, crouching in front of him. “So this is how this is going to work, I'll ask a question and you answer. Or,” The way he explained was not unlike the way a teacher would to a student. “I'll break one of your fingers.” He grabbed the little finger of Stiles' left hand. “Ready?”

He fought hard to keep his breathing under control. This pain would hurt temporarily, but the death of his friends would last hell of a lot longer. “Ok.”

“Excellent. Now tell me, which of Derek's pups was the first to be turned?” His grip tightened on Stiles' delicate finger. Although he wasn't sure why this information was helpful to the Argents, he wasn't going to risk giving it.

“No ideAHHH.” With a quick jerk of his hand, Gerard broke the boys finger against the arm of the chair. The sharp shock of agony quickly dulled to a stabbing throb.

“Now, now, I know that isn't true. Next finger, Mr. Stilinski.” He moved his hand across to the ring finger. “Same question.” Generating pain for a teenager didn't appear to have any affect on Gerard in any way. 

“No ideAHHH—ISAAC.” The second broken finger forced this out of him. Fresh tears fell down his cheeks, the pain of knowing he sold out a friend was on par with the fingers.

“Good, good! Next question.” Again, he moved along to the next finger on Stiles' left hand. “Why hasn't Scott officially joined the pack yet?”

“Please. Please let me go. I don't know anything.” He pleaded. His breathing was erratic, the inner conflict of wanting it to end and wanting to protect his friends was a different level of torture.

“You answered one question. You can answer more.” He increased his pressure on the middle finger. “Why won't Scott join the pack?”

“He never told m –“ The third broken finger was met with an ear splitting scream. “He never wanted the bite, he …” Stiles was panting, he wanted it to be over. “He thinks not joining will make it less real.” He took a while to talk, his gasps of pain and sobs punctured each word.

“So he is in denial?” Gerard arose from the floor and walked around the back of the chair. He clapped Stiles on his shoulders, he was visibly trembling. “You've done well, Stiles. Where is the packs hideout?” 

Stiles was openly sobbing, he felt weak and ashamed. He shook his head and flinched in anticipation of Gerard's next move. Snot and tears poured down his face, he didn't dare move an arm to wipe them. Instead, he watched in abject horror as the old man walked around to face Stiles again. He couldn't bring himself to look up into his eyes.

“Perhaps that question was too big.” He mused. “I do have a reward for your compliance.” He lifted Stiles' head with his hand. “How would you like a phone call?”

“Can I call me Dad?” Stiles almost looked hopeful. “Please?”

“He's the Sheriff isn't he? No I think not. I think –“

“Please! Please let me call my Dad, this will be killing him. Ple –“

The smack across the face felt like nothing compared to everything else.

“If you interrupt again, I will personally kill him.” Stiles chewed his lip as fresh tears appeared in his eyes. “You will call Derek Hale. And you will say what I tell you to. If you say anything else, I will shoot you.”

******************

Derek went to the Argents house and stood across the street from it, anger radiated off him. Chris Argent didn't take long to appear beside him.

“What are you doing? Gerard is here, he will kill you. He is doing everything to gain inform on you.”

“Is that why he has Stiles?”

“Stiles? What on earth would he do with Stiles? We have a code and that kid isn't even one of your kind.”

“But he knows about us, he is part of Scott's pack … Of my pack.”

“My father may be many things, but he wouldn't hurt an innocent teenager.” Chris must have thought this had some truth behind it, as his heartbeat didn't spike.

“Then how did he get that injury to his face?”

His heart rate did spike up a few beats at this question. “I don't know what he is doing, but he would never hurt a Kid!”

Derek glared at the Argent. “Maybe you should find out.”

At this Chris Argent stormed back up to his house. Derek could smell a slight hint of worry about him. He climbed into the Camero and drove to the Sheriff's office, where the pack decided to meet straight after school had finished. 

As soon as he entered the room he felt his phone ring, which was a strange occurrence. Stranger still was that it was Stiles calling. He held up his phone to show the caller ID, the Sheriff practically leapt at Derek.

“Answer it!”

“Hello? Stiles?” Derek couldn't keep the urgency out of his voice.

“Derek …” His voice sounded strained, it sounded wrong.

“Stiles, can you tell me where you are?”

“I – I can't … Derek, I'm sorry, I –“

“Do you want to speak to your Father?” He glanced at the Sheriff, avid desperation on his face.

“I'm not allowed, please –“ His voice started to break.

“I can put you on speaker?”

“No! No, they'll hurt me again. Derek, listen please.”

He was starting to sound frantic, which would have been like his usual self; if he didn't sound so broken. “They've said – They told me to tell you that –“ Derek could hear that Stiles was shaking badly.

“Stiles, it's ok. Tell me where you are, I can save you. Let me –“

“No, Derek, please” It was heart wrenching hearing Stiles cry. He had never done so in front of the pack. For a human he had always been so strong. “The only way to help me” He let out a sob. “ Is to swap me, for one of the pack.”

Since every Werewolf in the room could hear the conversation, they all cried in outrage. Scott punched the wall in frustration. Most members offered to trade in an instant. Derek had to shush them to hear Stiles speak again.

“Don't let them, Derek. It's just me, I don't want anyone else to get hurt. Not because of me. I don't matter … I'm not important.”

“Don't say that. We won't stop til we find you. I'll trade with you. I take it, it's me they want?”

“They'll kill you.”

“But you will be safe.”

“I – No –“ It sounded like Stiles was fighting hard with himself. “Derek, they have me in some kind of basement.” His words were incredibly rushed. “It's Gerard, he –“

The sound of a gunshot rang clear down the phone.

“STILES!”


	4. Not Him Too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More triggers for Torture. They have been included in the tags. 
> 
> Enjoy!

“STILES!” The line went dead. “Stiles?”

“What is it? What's happened?” The Sheriff snatched the phone out of Derek's hand, desperately trying to reach his son. “Stiles, Son, are you there?”

“Derek? … Was that – Was that a gunshot?” Erica practically sobbed. “Please tell me it wasn't?”

“We … They have a code.” Allison was numb from disbelief. She just sat staring at the phone in the Sheriff's trembling hands.

As the teenagers started to argue about what the call had meant, Scott let out a deafening yell. It was almost a howl. “HE ISN'T DEAD. He can't be.” Derek grabbed the boys arm before he could escape from the room.

“He said Gerard,” Allison broke down at the mention of her Grandfather. “had him in a basement.”

“He – He wouldn't do this – “She was sobbing.

“Wake up Allison, he has!” Erica's tone was harsh.

“Who is Gerard? Not the Principal, Argent?” The Sheriff was confused by this, oblivious to the hunter and werewolf situation.

“Why would he – He wouldn't. Not to – Not to Stiles.”

“But he would to us! You heard him, 'The only way to help was to swap'” Derek couldn't keep the edge off his voice, sparing the feelings of an Argent was pretty low on his list of cares.

Lydia crossed the room to put an arm around her distraught friend. “Yelling isn't helping anything, Derek.” She tried to soothe Allison, Scott was still too in shock to realize she was even crying. “Surely he can't have died?” Lydia whispered, nervously glancing at the Sheriff, who still clutched to Derek's phone. “I didn't … feel it.”

“I have no idea what you lot are yammering on about.” The Sheriff arose as he addressed the room. “But my son is either dead or dying! We need to act, now!”

Derek audibly gasped, the thought hitting him hard. “He said he was in some kind of basement –“

“Like the one you were held in before?!” Scott jumped onto Derek's trail of thought. “Could he be there?”

“I don't know the location though, I wasn't exactly in the best condition when we escaped.”

"I can show you.” Allison stood up, something in her shifted. She steeled herself over, any ties to Gerard as family had now been severed.

************

The bullet narrowly missed Stiles, he head ducked down. He was violently shaking, being so close to death was not pleasurable. Stiles retched and emptied the pitiful contents of his stomach into his lap. “You're crazy.” He whimpered.

Gerard gently lifted the boys head with two fingers under his chin, the softness of his touch felt so foreign to Stiles. “You did so well, my boy.” Bewilderment evident in his tortured expression, Stiles was unsure why he was still alive.

It was his plan to tell the others so he would get shot, putting an end to it all. “I – I d-don't understand.”

“Of course not.” Gerard used his thumb to wipe away the sick and spit from Stiles' mouth. “I wanted you to tell them. You've led them to their doom.”

Stiles' lips began to quiver. Grief and disgust flowed through him. This whole ordeal had brought a new level of self-hatred.

“Now tell me, Stiles, this is important for our trap. Where is the first place the pack will head first?”

“How the hell am I supposed to –“ The shock of being pistol-whipped overwhelmed him. It hurt a great deal more than he ever imagined.

“Of course you do. You know them so well. Where will they think to look, based on the information you told them?” The old man was starting to look deranged, his voice hysterical.

He honestly didn't know the answer, how could he? He was so tired and so full of pain.

“My patience has worn thin. Fetch the cloth and the water.”

“NO! No let me just think! Please!” Stiles strained against the roped now binding him to the wooden chair.

“You had better think whilst you can still breathe freely, Mr. Stilinski.”

It was hard to think about anything, his mind was drowning in panic. The fact that Gerard had asked his hunters to bring a cloth indicated that he was going to use an advanced level of waterboarding. Stiles wasn't sure he could even handle the standard level. His mind raced to think of an answer Gerard would accept. 

The chair was roughly tipped back by one of Gerard's more muscular hunters, and secured by the man's hold. The wet rag was forced into the boys mouth before he could attempt to give an answer to the irrational question. Stiles tried to steel himself before the water flowed over his face.

The feeling of this act was indescribable, he wasn't sure how he was going to survive it. It was worse than every panic attack combined. The wet rag that obstructed his mouth eliminated it as an airway. He tried to concentrate his breathing to his nose, but the insurmountable panic made this impossible. This was when he really started to choke. The pain in his ankles and wrists, from tugging at his restraints, seemed so distant.

As the water stopped flowing, the chair was returned to all fours. Gerard ripped the cloth out of Stiles' mouth and repeated his question. The unbalanced old man stared at him whilst Stiles chocked on the excess water. He almost seemed patient as he waited for the boy to regain control.

“P-probably the – place.” It was painful to talk, every thought screamed at him to remain silent. But he couldn't go through that again. Between his hacking coughs and panicked breaths, he struggled to finish his answer. As the chair started to get tipped back again he yelled, “Derek! Kate had Derek there!”

“You heard him. Move out. Bring Derek to me, anyone else is fair game.”

***********

Everything happened too quickly. As they entered the basement, which Derek had previously been held prisoner, the time seemed to double in speed. Allison was pulled to the sidelines by one of the hunters and forced to watch the battle unfold.

Her cries for help weren't too hard to tune out. Although she was part of the pack, she was still an Argent. They wouldn't hurt her too badly.

In an instant it was evident that Stiles was not there, they had used him for a trap; and Derek fell for it. Even though the hunters had the upper hand at the start of the battle, it had turned into an even fight. They were both down one person - Allison and the hunter who had her in a full nelson. 

The pack fought to incapacitate, where as the hunters were fighting to kill.

“He isn't here, it was a trap.” The Sheriff yelled the belated revelation.

The room filled with various howls of pain from both sides. Derek soon noticed that the hunters were not aiming to kill him, unlike the rest of his pack. Just slow him down.

One hunter had made the mistake of taunting Scott, with a jibe about his missing friend. This resulted in the hunter being thrown at the concrete wall, the crack of breaking bones was sickening.

Derek began to struggle as arrows began to penetrate his skin. His werewolf healing stilled by the intruding arrow heads. He tore an arrow out of his leg and plunged it into the thigh of the hunter pinning Isaac.

The fight began to slow, as the hunters had been knocked out or otherwise immobilized. 

Boyd had Erica pulled into his lap, rocking her back and forth. Her heartbeat was faint, but present. Lydia and the Sheriff helped remove arrows from Jackson, and Scott was helping Isaac up from the floor.

Derek started to approach his injured Beta's, forgetting about the hunter still holding Allison. 

“Hey!”

The Alpha turned, shifting back into werewolf state. His eyes dangerously red. Allison left forgotten, unconsciousness on the floor. 

“Where is Stiles?” He took a step towards the hunter, provoking his to fire his crossbow. The arrow sank into Derek's shoulder. He roared powerfully, the sound reverberating off the walls.

“I can take you to him. Only you.”

“Fine.” He bit out, removing the arrow from his shoulder, his found dangerously low.

“Derek –“ Isaac tried to stop his Alpha, but Derek roared him into submission.

“I'll have to kill the rest first.” The aim of the crossbow shifted from Derek, to behind him, straight at the Sheriff. The trigger pulled and the arrow tore through the air, Derek unable to stop it.

The dull thud of a body hitting the floor met their ears.

************

He was left alone with only Gerard for company. Stiles rocked silently back and forth, as much as the rope restraints allowed him. 

The sound of a phone ringing brought Stiles back down to earth. This phone call would be able to tell him the amount of damage he had caused. His rocking started up again more rapidly.

“What's the situation in the bunker?” Due to not having werewolf hearing he could only one half of the conversation. “Any survivors?”

…

“Well you could have entered the fight.”

…

“”Was Allison there? … She lead them? …. Did you do what I asked?”

…

“Very well. What's happening at this 'impasse'?”

… 

“Ok.”

This half of the conversation was useless to Stiles. Gerard ended the call and turned to face him, his expression unreadable.

“Looks like you're an orphan now, kid.”


	5. Worse Than Dying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same triggers apply as with the previous chapters. Spoiler in the end notes! Enjoy!

How can this be true? It can't be. It isn't. What was the point in fighting anymore? Stiles had given up, the void created by the news of his father consumed him. Guilt ran through his veins like ice.

“Since you have nothing to lose, you may as well tell me the location to the Alpha's base.” The old man didn't give Stiles any time to grieve. Nothing mattered to Stiles anymore, he wanted death. He couldn't live with himself, knowing that he was the cause of his Father's passing.

He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came to the surface. His words had caused nothing but pain. Maybe this way Gerard would just shoot him? The more he tried to find his words the further they escaped him. Any words were replaced with the urge to vomit.

“Tell me, you little shit!” Gerard began yelling obscenities at the boy. All Stiles could do was stare blankly at him, his eyes were lifeless. Not even Gerard's violent shakes of Stiles' shoulders could get him to react.

With a final backhand, strong enough to knock Stiles and the chair to the ground, Gerard stalked out of the basement.

“Fine, I'll leave you for now.” He flipped the lights off. “When I return, you will tell me what you know.”

****************

Three gun shots pierced the air, the crossbow hunter fell to the floor. Derek turned and ran to his Beta's and knelt beside the Sheriff.

“I can't believe that bastard shot me! With an arrow!” The Sheriff tried to sit up, an arrow violently protruding from his thigh. He attempted to remove it but Derek grabbed his arm to prevent it.

“You're lucky it missed a major artery, but it's probably safer to leave it in.” Derek smiled weakly. He instructed Lydia to phone for an ambulance. The Sheriff watched as everyone, except himself, started to heal.

“I'm going to need a proper explanation. I still don't quite understand all of –“ he vaguely gestured at Derek's now human face. “This.” 

“Are you in pain? I can –“

“This will be nothing compared with losing Stiles. It's up to you guys to help him. I'd suggest you all leave quickly, before the ambulance gets here.” He turned and pointed at the top corner of the room. “Also they probably watched this.”

There was a CCTV camera blinking, rage fueled Derek as he sprinted to smash it. Before returning to his group, he picked Allison up from the floor and carried her over to Scott. “You carry her outside. I'll help the Sheriff. It'll be wise for them to wait outside.” He pushed Allison into the younger man's arms and turned to help the wounded.

“Boyd? How's Erica?” Derek asked, concerned over his Beta's safety. He bent to check on Erica, two of the hunters had been particularly thorough when attacking her. “It might be better if you took her back to the base.”

“Good idea.” Boyd nodded, he spared no time in leaving. He scooped Erica into his strong arms and fled from the scene.

Derek was starting to fear how much time had passed since they heard the gunshot on the phone. Isaac appeared beside him. “Should we help the Sheriff outside, Derek?” He clapped his Alpha on the shoulder. “Then we can try and find Stiles.”

Fondness for his first turned flowed through him. The two wolves bent to aid the Sheriff, together they managed to get him outside.

Once the whole pack had vacated the building, they were met with an unlikely ally. Chris Argent approached them, to his dismay he was greeted with the sight of his unconscious daughter.

“Why are you here?” Derek couldn't keep his wolf at bay, his eyes flashing red.

“I know where Stiles is.”

****************

Although this was the first time he was left completely alone, Stiles couldn't fall asleep. He had definitely been awake for at least 48 hours. He wasn't sure what the time was, or even the day. He didn't have the energy or motivation to try and escape. He was still attached to the chair, which now lay sideways on the floor because of Gerard's last outburst.

It was dark in the basement but the longer he was left in darkness, the more his eyes adjusted. He felt disgusting. There was a crusty patch of dry vomit on his trousers, from where he threw up after the phone call. It had only been a few hours since the event, but it felt like days. His underwear had been soiled, the promises of toilet breaks long forgotten.

The door at the top of the stairs opened slowly, light pouring through the gap. As the light switch was triggered the whole basement radiated brightness. Stiles had to clench his eyes shut due to such a strong contrast.

When he dared to open them, Gerard was right in front of him. It was terrifying. The old man was undoing the rope restraints. There was no hope of freedom. Just fear.

“Let's try a new tactic. Stand up.” He pulled Stiles up by his shirt collar and forcibly made him stand. Putting pressure on his right foot caused him to yelp, he had almost forgotten that it was broken.

Stiles swayed as he stood. He was too weak to support himself for long.

“Where is the base?” Gerard had not let go of Stiles' collar, their faces dangerously close.

His lips quivered, he couldn't talk. How could he? He just wanted to vomit, but there was nothing in his stomach. 

“Not so talkative now, are we?” There was something about Gerard's eyes that instilled even more fear into Stiles. They looked hungry, rabid, he was becoming the kind of monster he hunted. 

Gerard practically roared as he pushed Stiles backwards. Too weak, and no fight left in him, Stiles went flying. He fell over the abandoned chair and crashed to the floor. Only to be picked up again by the crazed old man.

This repeated a few times, until Gerard could no longer lift him back up. Stiles whimpered on the floor, violently shaking. His head buried under his arm, the fingers of his left hand protruding at horrific angles.

As one last kick was dealt, the basement door flew open.

********************

Derek crashed over the threshold. Leaping down the stairs, he was standing in front of the head Argent in no time. The Alpha's roar had no effect on the deranged hunter.

A gun was pointed at him by the old man. “Now Derek, this is a surprise. It took you long enough.” The sight of Stiles laying so broken on the floor made the wolf rear forward. “Not so fast, Hale.”

He was forced to back away as Gerard changed his aim to the boy on the floor. All he could do was watch as Stiles was forced to his feet, he was barely clinging to conciousness. Hope flickered across his face at the sight of Derek, but was quickly replaced with misery.

The shock of Stiles' appearance caused Derek to shift back to human. “What is the point in a code, when you will stoop to this?” His voice was drenched with loathing as he gestured to what was left of Stiles.

“You killed Kate! My daughter!” Gerard was yelling. “My girl, she's gone.”

“I didn't, it –“

“LIES” Something inside the old man flipped, any sense of rationalism: gone. “YOU KILLED HER.”

“She killed my entire family!”

“YOU'RE DIRTY WOLVES. A LESSER BEING. YOU'RE KILLERS.”

“Humans were in that house! We didn't kill any--” Derek stopped as Gerard brought his gun to Stiles' temple. The boy closed his eyes, bottom lip trembling. Despite the fear, he looked prepared to die.

Chris Argent appeared behind Derek, gun pointed at his own father.

“Chris, what are you doing? Kill the wolf. Kill him for Kate.”

“Look at you.” The younger Argent looked disgusted at the sight of his own father. “This isn't what we do!”

Gerard pushed Stile forward, away from him. Derek rushed to catch him before his delicate body made contact with the ground. As the old man shouted his hatred for wolves, Derek pulled Stiles closer too him. 

“Look! Look what you have done to that innocent kid.” He motioned to Stiles with his head, not daring to take his eyes off his father. “And Kate? She burnt this boys family to the ground. Humans included. If anything, you are the monsters.”

The world stilled as the two Argents debated their so-called 'code.' Derek's attention was solely on Stiles. He couldn't get over the shock of seeing him so damaged, it looked so wrong. Stiles reach a hand up slowly and touched the Alpha's face, it was like he was making sure he was real. “I'm here, it's ok. I'm getting you out of here.”

Stiles trembled in Derek's hold, his face contorted as he started to cry. Exhaustion pulled him under, losing his battle to stay conscious.

The eldest Argent was still screaming about the injustice of his daughters death. Spit was flying from his mouth as he shrieked. Only stopping when his son started to calmly talk.

“If anything you have taught me was true, it's that you need to put down a rabid dog.” With this, Chris shot his father in the head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't really think I would kill off the Sheriff??


	6. Unnatural Silence

He had to get him out of there. Derek lifted Stiles into his arms and ran. Ran out of the basement, out of the Argent's household. How had he not sensed Stiles when he first paid Chris a visit?

His mind was so focused on getting to the hospital that he ran straight passed his car. Stiles' grip around Derek's neck was almost suffocating, he was clinging on like his life depended on it. The stench of fear, pain and torture was overwhelming. To Derek, Stiles no longer smelt like Stiles.

As they entered the hospital, Melissa McCall ran to their aid. “Oh thank goodness, you got him.” A sense of relief spread over her. After all the boy was like a second Son to her. “We need to get him checked over immediately.”

Scott came running towards them, his joy of seeing Stiles in Derek's arms quickly replaced by shock. The young Werewolf brought his hands to his face, his voice croaked as he asked: “What have they done to him?”

“Not now Scott.” Melissa ushered Derek towards the nearest free bed. “Put him here, then we can see the extent of the damage.” Although she was trying to remain professional, Derek could hear the wobble in her voice.

He didn't want to let go of Stiles, afraid that he would shatter if he did. Once he relinquished his grip he carefully placed him onto the hospital bed. He looked so fragile.

More Doctor's rushed in to assist Melissa, and Derek was asked to wait outside. He joined Scott, who was standing right outside the room.

“What happened?” Scott asked, his eyes not leaving the door. Neither of them could see into the room, no matter how hard they stared. The blinds had been drawn on the windows to ensure Stiles had some privacy.

Unable to wait for the Alpha's reply, Scott turned to face him. All Derek could do was shake his head. What he saw was horrific. He couldn't even begin to think what Stiles had been put through. All because he was connected to the pack; to Derek.

“How's the Sheriff?”

“He's ok, they removed the arrow. He made me promise to come and get him when you found Stiles.” Scott shook his head. “This is so messed up man.”

***********************

If it wasn't for the noise of the machines, Stiles would have thought he had finally died. He started to come around very slowly. 

The door opened, making Stiles jump. He wanted to feign sleep, but the heart monitor gave away his fright. The familiar and friendly figure of Ms. McCall came into view. She smiled at him sweetly, but her eyes looked sad.

He immediately wanted to ask what happened to his dad. Did he even want to hear? It was his fault after all. What will happen to him now he was all alone? Try as he might, words still evaded him.

“Stiles, do you know where you are?” He nodded. “You're safe now, No one can hurt you here.” He attempted to smile, it was a weak effort. “I know its a bit soon, but you have some visitors. Would you like me to bring them in? A friendly face might help you.” He was hesitant, but nodded anyway. “We can bring them in slowly, and one by one, if you like?” Again, all he could do was nod.

Melissa went to open the door and let in the first guest. He figured it would either be Scott or Derek. His best friend or his saviour.

“Stiles.” His father hobbled towards him, walking stick in hand. The sight of his dad was too much. His initial thought was that he actually had died. He looked on in disbelief. “Son, it's ok.”

The Sheriff pulled his Son into a strong embrace, the angle slightly awkward due to the bed. Starting to understand it was real, Stiles hugged him back. His face contorted as he started to sob, tears fell hot and heavy down his cheeks. He didn't want to let go, he felt safe in his Fathers hold.

They pull apart, the Sheriff holds his Sons face in his hands and wipes away his tears. His Father's gaze roamed over his injuries, shock and anger in his eyes. Stiles looked away in shame. They hugged again before Melissa walked in with two more visitors.

Although he was delighted to see them, he was embarrassed to be seen. Scott ran at him and hugged him, his Mother shouting to be careful. He wasn't entirely sure how to greet Derek. What do you say to someone who saved you?

Derek stood to the right of the bed and clapped him on the shoulder with a small smile. Stiles pulled him into a hug. The guy saved his life, surely they were at the hugging stage of friendship? The Werewolf awkwardly patted Stiles' back.

They all spoke to him softly, reassuring him that he was going to be alright. Stiles wanted to talk back, he wanted to tell his Father that he was sorry. He wanted to thank Derek. More thank anything he wanted to say something witty to make Scott cheer up. He opened his mouth to speak, but started to retch. Melissa managed to get a container in front of him just in time. 

***************

Melissa soothed Stiles, rubbed his back and told him to take his time. The poor boy had been through hell and back, no wonder he couldn't bring himself to talk. Derek knew, first hand, what that was like.

He and Scott turned to give Stiles privacy, they could smell his embarrassment. Unfortunately, it was at this point that the rest of the pack spilled into the room. The heart monitor spiked. Derek returned to the right side of the bed for protection.

Stiles had put on a brave face, despite the monitors betraying his best efforts. Each pack member greeted him, expressing their worries and gratitude of his safe return. Allison hung back, she stank of guilt. 

Melissa frowned at them all, there were too many people in the room. Derek's patience was wearing thin, it was obvious that Stiles was uncomfortable. It didn't take a Werewolf to figure that out, yet his Beta's seemed oblivious.

The line was crossed when Erica flippantly asked: “Derek, did you kill the bastard?”

None of the machines were necessary for Derek to notice the extreme acceleration of Stiles' heartbeat. Melissa tried to clear the room, but Stiles grabbed hold of his arm. He looked down in shock but placed a reassuring hand over the boys fist. 

The panic attack subsided as quickly as it appeared. The pack sheepishly made their way back into the room, Erica apologizing profusely. Derek couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes.

*********************

Everything was overwhelming. He wanted them all to leave but he didn't want to be alone. He was just so tired. Melissa appeared to have sensed this, as she started to usher everyone, but his Dad, from the room.

For some reason he didn't want Derek to leave, probably because he was an Alpha. More likely it was because he now associated him with safety. As the Werewolf began to walk away, Stiles involuntarily grabbed his sleeve. He felt pitiful as he shook his head. Pleading him with his eyes to stay. He was worried that Derek was going to shake off his grip and walk away, but he simply looked at Stiles and gave him a small smile. 

When Ms. McCall returned, she brought chairs for the remaining men. They both sat, his Dad on the left and Derek to his right. “I need to explain the full extent of your injuries. Are you ok with this Stiles?” He hesitated at this. “I can just talk to your dad, in the hall, if you aren't ready?”

Conflict spread through him, of course he wanted to hear what he had survived but would it make him relive it? He chewed his bottom lip before nodding his head, determined to stay strong.

“I can stop at anytime, it's no problem.” Melissa smiled at him, he was grateful that she was his nurse.

“In your foot, the first, second, third, and fourth metatarsals are broken.” She read from the clipboard of notes. His Father let out a gasp of shock. The vivid memory of Gerard stamping on his foot made him shudder, a sharp shooting pain reappearing in his right foot. His Dad patted his arm as an attempt to comfort his son. “You know what, this can wait. I'll –“ Stiles started to vigorously shake his head. “Are you sure?”

“Ok, the proximal phalanges in your middle, ring, and little fingers of your left hand have some nasty breaks. But with time and care they will be fine.” He couldn't stop the trembling, he relived each injury as she read them out. Maybe he should wait? He felt Derek place a hand on his bare arm, black spreading up the Werewolf's veins. He was sharing some of the pain. 

“There is a hairline fracture to two ribs on your right side, as well as your left cheekbone.” She looked up from the clipboard with a somber smile. “Obviously these are only the physical injuries.”

“What do you mean?” There was deep concern in his Father's voice.

“I think that's a conversation for the morning. Stiles, if you need anything, just press this button.” She showed him were it was, which was to the right of him; beside Derek. “Strictly speaking you are not allowed overnight guests, but I won't tell if you don't.” She winked at them before leaving, shutting the door behind her.

***********************

Stiles eventually fell asleep, his fingers still entwined in Derek's sleeve. He looked peaceful in sleep, hopefully the nightmares won't reach him.

“Derek, I can't thank you enough.” The Sheriff looked up from his sleeping son and smiled sincerely at him.

“I'm just glad I got there in time.” Derek didn't need to tell the Sheriff how close he was to losing Stiles, how close they all were.

“You can go if you want to, I'll be staying all night.” It wasn't a dismissal, but Derek thought he should leave. This was a time for family.

“Yeah, I could do with a shower.” He had gotten fairly dirty from the fight and the basement. His Henley was ruined, he should probably start wearing red. “If you need anything, just call.” As he went to leave, he felt Stiles' grip tighten on his sleeve. He looked down, Stiles was on the verge of waking. “Perhaps I should stay?” He whispered, nodding to the imprisoned fabric of his sleeve.

The Sheriff saw his Sons grip on Derek's sleeve and chuckled softly. “Ok, well I'll go get us some coffee.” As the he tried to stand up, his leg injury hindering him, Stiles also grabbed hold of his arm. “Well, I guess we are both staying. I think that's what he needs.”


	7. A Helping Hand

He awoke to find Derek and his Father where he left them, asleep in their chairs. They had evidently left at some point in the night as they both had a change of clothes. Stiles felt extremely grateful for the two men remaining by his side, but he also felt incredibly guilty. They both looked exhausted, and those chairs weren't the comfiest to sleep on. 

Stiles sat up in his bed, his ribs aching in protest. He wanted to get up and walk; he had been confined for too long. The Doctors advised another day of bed rest before attempting to walk. Melissa opened the door, Stiles hated himself for flinching. He tried to put a finger to his lips, so they didn't wake up his Dad or Derek. The latter had already awoken, those stupid Werewolf senses.

“Sorry, I'll be quick.” Melissa whispered. “I just need to redress your rope burns.”

She cleaned up the wounds around his wrists, her touch was extremely gentle. “How is the pain today?”

He was starting to really resent questions. He wanted to answer but he just couldn't. On the surface he knew that no danger would come from these questions, whether he answered them or not. There was something deep down that stopped his words. 

His Father awoke with a start, again making Stiles jump. “Melissa, when will he be able to come home?”

She looked slightly taken aback by the abruptness of the question. “Hopefully tomorrow, we will have to reassess his injuries and create an after care plan.” She finished wrapping Stiles' wrists. “That applies to you too, that leg needs care and attention.”

She turned to face Stiles. “There are a few more things I need to go through with you.” The tone of her voice had turned serious. “Given the nature of the incident, it's only natural that there will be some repercussions. For example, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

His Father stood quickly as a response. “What can we do to help with this?”

“Time and Psychotherapy. Techniques such as Cognitive Behavioural Therapy are often used. This is something you will be referred for.” She gave his hand a squeeze. Stiles had zoned out, it was like he was watching this from a third person perspective. He could see his Dad listening intently to Melissa, determined to help his Son. Derek's attention was on Stiles, watching his reactions; in case he broke.

“Because it's still early, we can't tell what symptoms he will display.” The way they spoke, like he wasn't there, didn't help Stiles' dissociation. “It does appear that this trauma has triggered Selective Mutism.”

Derek gave Stiles a weak smile, a deep look of empathy on his face.

“Now it's important to give him time, don't force it.” She squeezed his hand again. “It will get better.”

With this she left the room. The silence that followed made the situation so much worse for Stiles. He tried to say something funny, something to make his Father sigh and Derek roll his eyes. 

“Right, nature is calling. I'll be right back, Kiddo.” Stiles knew that his Father was actually going to ask Melissa one million and one questions.

“Here, I have something that might help you.” Derek reached into his bag and pulled something out. “You don't have to use it. It was just an idea.”

He handed Stiles the item with a sheepish look. A whiteboard?

**************************

It had been a stupid idea, he wanted to take the whiteboard back and pretend he didn't think of it. That's when Stiles smiled at him like he was the whole world. It had been so long since someone looked at him this way. It was nice.

He watched as Stiles scribbled something on the board. The boy flipped it around and smiled. **Excellent idea Der-Bear ;)**. Derek couldn't help but roll his eyes and smile. Just because he couldn't speak, didn't mean he couldn't talk.

The Sheriff re-entered the room, he beamed at the two of them. Happy to see his Son resembling his old self. “Sorry Kid, but I have to head to the station. Of course I can stay if you want?”

**It's ok**. He showed his Dad this message before scrawling. **You're staying, right?**

“I can if you want me to.” Initially he didn't understand why Stiles wanted him around, but he was happy to help in his recovery.

“If you need me at all, just get Derek to call me. Ok? I'll try and get you a new phone later.” He hugged his Son before leaving.

**Thanks**

“Do you need me to do anything?”

**Can you open the door?**

“The door?”

**I don't like being closed in**

“Yeah, of course.” It made sense that Stiles would be uncomfortable with the door being shut. He had just been locked in a basement for a couple of days.

**Thanks**

“Don't worry about it.”

**No! Thanks for everything**

“Stiles it's ok.” Stiles started to look sad again. He tried to think of something funny, but that wasn't really his forte.

**Can I ask you something?**

“Of course, anything.”

**How did you find me?**

Derek was worried that Stiles would start asking questions, but he didn't think it would be so soon. “Chris Argent told me.”

A mixture of confusion and shock flashed across his face. **Why?**

“He didn't know what was happening, he rushed straight to us when he found out.”

**Where is … He?** There was evidence that Stiles tried to write 'Gerard' but changed his mind.

“He's gone, He can't hurt you.” Stiles frowned at him. “Will knowing what happened upset you?”

**Please tell me**

Derek sighed, he was concerned that this information would make Stiles feel worse. “Chris shot him … In the head.”

A dark look came over Stiles. **Good**

***********************

Stiles was ridiculously grateful for everything Derek had done for him. He didn't think he could ever repay him. For now he was just happy he had regained the ability to induce the eye roll again.

After a while Scott had turned up to visit his best friend.

**Hey, Scotty!**

“A whiteboard? That's brilliant!”

**It was Sourwolf's idea**

“Nice one.” He flashed a smile at Derek before sitting in the chair to the left of the bed. “How're you doing?”

**Peachy!**

“I need to go check on the pack. Is that ok?” Derek stood up.

  **You're coming back, right?**

“If you want me to.”

**DUH**

With one last eye roll, Derek left the hospital room; leaving the door open. 

“Ok, now Derek has gone, how are you really doing?”

**I'm ok**

“Stiles” Scott frowned at him slightly, shaking his head. “It's me, you know you can talk to me.”

**I guess I'm just tired of being scared.** He was grateful for the whiteboard, but it was small. Anything he wanted to say was confined to a small space. **I feel weak and pathetic.**

“But you're no – Ow!” Stiles threw the pen at him. “Ok, ok. I'll shut up.” He held his hand out for his pen to be returned.

Scott told Stiles about the things he was missing at school, which was pointless since Scott didn't really pay attention. He will have to ask Lydia. 

**How's Allison?** Stiles knew she felt bad, which was ridiculous. It wasn't her fault.

“She's ok, she just needs time. She feels responsible.” Scott glanced nervously at Stiles. “She also broke up with me, she thought that it would be easier for you.”

**Tell her she's an idiot**

“Wait, stay still.” Scott took a photo of Stiles holding the message. “This way you can tell her.”

He looked at the photo and didn't recognise himself. He was smiling but it looked empty. There was a horrific bruise on his cheek and hints of dark circles under his eyes. He looked broken.

His chest constricted as he fell into another panic attack. Scott grabbed the phone from him as he tried to soothe him.

“Stiles it's ok, we are in a safe place. Just breathe with me.” Stiles looked into his best friends eyes and found comfort. “Count with me ok, just like when we were younger. You can count in your head, just breathe, ok?”

One by one Scott raised a finger and they both counted to ten. Scott said each number softly as Stiles counted in his head. Slowly he started to come back under control.

Scott pulled him into a hug and told him it was alright. He had always been there for him and he would continue to do so. Stiles was unbelievably grateful for him. His friend stayed with him until he fell asleep.

**************************

As he approached the hospital he was met with the sound of distant screaming. He ran, following the sound all the way to Stiles' room.

Dropping his bags, he rushed to his aid. Stiles was thrashing in his sleep, consumed in nightmares. Derek tried his hardest to restrain him, so the boy didn't cause himself further injury. He managed to get him to slow his movements.

Stiles awoke with a start, breathing heavily. His eyes were wide with panic, frantically looking around the room. Derek placed a hand on each of the boys shoulders. “Stiles, look at me. It was just a dream. I'm here.”

Once he had calmed down a bit he placed his forehead on Derek's left arm. He felt the wetness of Stiles' tears.

!I brought you some clothes from your house. I thought it might make you feel a bit better.” Stiles looked up at him with a watery smile.

Derek retrieved his bags, forgotten in the doorway, and placed them on the bed. Stiles was looking around for something, getting more and more agitated as he couldn't find it. As he stepped closer to help, Derek's foot made contact with something on the floor. The whiteboard.

**Thanks**. Stiles showed him the message, the writing was unsteady as his hands still trembled. 

He didn't know why or what made him do it, but he grabbed hold of Stiles' shaking hands and held them in his own. He held them steady, he wanted to protect him. “It's ok, I've got you.”


	8. Pleasant Company

They finally released Stiles from the hospital, much to his Father's delight. Although he was trying to get back to normal as quickly as possible, the thought of returning to class was too much. The amount of questions and looks of pity would be unbearable.

As he stepped over the threshold he was overcome with a sense of security. It had felt like years since he had been at home. He had to use crutches to walk because of his foot, meaning stairs were a challenge. He dropped down onto the sofa, forgetting how this would aggravate his ribs. 

“Now you're sure you'll be alright on your own?” His Dad looked down at his son, eyebrows raised. “I can come out at anytime, just text.”

Stiles went to reach for his board to ask 'how', when the Sheriff chucked his phone at him.

“We found it during our search.” His Father looked carefully for a negative reaction. “If it has too many negative connotations, I'll get you a new one.”

**No, this is great! Thanks!**

“I think they could cope for a day without me.”

**I'll be ok, I don't want to cause more trouble.**

“Stiles, it's no trouble.”

**I need to try and get back to normal.**

“Just text if you need me. I love you.”

**Love you too.**

His Father got all the way to the door before he turned and walked back to him. He crouched down beside him and placed a strong hand on his arm. There was hurt in his eyes. “I know its hard, but we are all here for you. Me, Scott, Melissa … Even – Even Derek. And I know you want to forget but we need a statement from you.”

He knew this was coming, he just prayed it didn't.

**I'll try and write one**

“It doesn't have to be today.”

With one last reassuring squeeze of his arm and a pat on the head, he left. Straight away Stiles put on the television, he couldn't bare the thought of more silence. He was already starting to regret saying he was ok to be alone.

He pulled a notebook towards him and opened it with determination. He could do this, he just had to write what had happened. He could write it as if it was a story, it didn't happen to him. Yet again he couldn't find the words. The notebook soared threw the air as he chucked it in frustration.

Instead he decided to get himself something to eat and drink. It was nice to control his own mealtimes and eat something other than hospital food. Once he managed to get to the kitchen he wasn't hungry, he didn't want to make it a wasted effort. Besides, he couldn't really carry a plate of food when he had the crutches to contend with. He managed to get a glass of water and carry it through to the living room, with minimal spillage.

An unexpected knock at the door caused Stiles to spill his drink down the front of himself. He struggled for his crutches and warily made his way to the door. Relief was an understatement for when he saw who was there. 

************************************************

Derek knocked the door as gently as possible. Everyone was either in class or in work and he didn't think it was wise for Stiles to be alone too soon. Or at least that's what he told himself. He could hear the hammering of a nervous heartbeat through the door. Maybe this was a bad idea?

The door opened extremely slowly. Stiles peered through the gap in the doorway. Relief washed over him as he saw that it was Derek.

“I thought that maybe you would like some company?” He was really starting to second guess this decision, why would Stiles want him here?

The door was flung opened as wide as possible and he was bowed to as he walked into the Stilinksi household.

**How are you at playing games?**

“I'll give it a go.”

He did give it a go and he sucked. Really badly. It was worth it to see the smile on Stiles' face.

**Wow, you suck**

“This is a pointless skill to have.”

 **But a skill none the less.** Stiles hastily erased this messaged and replaced it with: **Do you want to watch a film?**

“Yeah sure. What film?”

Stiles thought for a moment before writing: **The Dark Knight?**

He pretended to know what that film was and nodded. “Do you need me to put it on?”

This time it was Stiles' turn to roll his eyes. He hobbled over to the DVDs to find the film he wanted. Once it was in the player he practically jumped back onto the sofa, right next to Derek. The whimper of pain did not go unnoticed by the Werewolf. **I love Batman.**

Derek tried his hardest to follow the film but it was far more entertaining to watch Stiles out the corner of his eye instead. That was until the interrogation scene between Batman and the Joker. He felt his pulse raise and saw his eyes widen. Stiles had chewed his bottom lip, clearly trying not to let the film affect him. Derek dove for the remote and switched the TV off, but it was too late, the damage had already been done.

“Stiles. Breathe.” Stiles hid his face with his hands, there was an underlying hint of embarrassment among the panic. “Scott told me counting helps. Shall we try that?” Derek was in front of him, kneeling on the floor. He placed his hands around Stiles' arms and gently tried to remove them from blocking his face. “Can you look at me? Right at me.” Slowly Stiles uncovered his face and his panic stricken eyes found Derek's hazel ones. “Shall we try counting?”

Stiles nodded, involuntary tears swam in his eyes. His breathing erratic. Derek began counting aloud, with each number Stiles grew calmer. He was so glad he asked Scott for advice on how to help Stiles should he succumb to an attack.

Once it was over, Derek hugged him close. Stiles still shaking in his embrace. 

**********************************

Holy crap. He was hugging Derek Hale. That's something he didn't think would ever happen to him. Stiles tried so hard to act cool and not give away any emotions, but those damn Werewolf senses were bound to pick up on everything. He pulled away to retrieve his whiteboard.

**So all it takes is a little bit of torture to get a hug from Derek Hale?**

This earned him an eye roll. As Derek arose he muttered something about Stiles being an idiot, there was a distinct hint of a smile present. Stiles quickly scrawled another message.

**How are you so good at this?**

Derek looked at him for a few seconds, clearly debating whether or not he could answer truthfully. “Lets just say I suffered with something similar when I was younger.” He sat down beside Stiles again. “So trust me when I say, you will find your words again. It just takes time and a lot of trust building.” He patted him on his thigh before standing back up. “Do you want some food?”

He nodded eagerly, his appetite was regained soon after his defeat from the kitchen earlier. Whilst Derek made them both some food, he decided to pick another film. He wasn't sure that Batman was a wise choice. That's another thing he would have to work on, he couldn't not watch Batman again. There must be something that won't set him off again, he was already getting sick of it. That was when he spotted it, a true classic from the early 2000's. More than anything he will find it entertaining to watch Derek watch it.

The Werewolf walked back into the room with two sandwiches. Stiles held up the DVD and grinned wickedly up at the Alpha.

“You're kidding?” Stiles just wiggled his eyebrows. “Fine.” He put the film on and nudged Derek with his elbow, already highly amused.

Halfway through the film there was another knock at the door. Anxiety shot through him. Derek must have sensed it, he paused the film and walked over to the door.

****************************

He was greeted with the sight of Lydia, Scott, Jackson, Boyd, Erica and Isaac. They were all holding bags of food and alcohol. They were all grinning at him as he glared back at them. Pushing their way passed they all greeted Stiles enthusiastically and sat around.

“Why are you watching Legally Blonde?” Jackson asked bemused.

“It's a classic.” Lydia said as she continued the film.

He returned to his place next to Stiles, which now cramped as Lydia and Scott both sat on the sofa.

“Huh, you guys strike me more as an action type. You know? Like watching men beat the shit out of each other.” 

Even Jackson gave her a look to shut her up, but Stiles held up his whiteboard.

**You're telling me Elle Woods doesn't kick ass?**

They all watch the rest of the film together, passing round drinks and snacks. When it came to an end it was Lydia who revealed their true intentions.

“We were thinking that we should throw a party. As a sort of 'welcome home' thing.”

“Nothing huge!” Isaac said, seeing the look on Stiles' face. Derek was thankful that at least one of his Beta's wasn't a total idiot.

Erica rose to her knees. “More like a get together.” She looked to Boyd for help. “Yeah, like just hang out and have some drinks.” He added.

“So exactly what we are doing now?” Derek asked with a raised brow. He knew that everyone felt guilty for what happened with Stiles, but they were going about it the wrong way.

Stiles wrote a message to Scott on his board. **Is Allison coming?**

“I'm sure if she knows you want her there she will come.” Whispering was a pointless act in a room full of the unnatural.

“Similar to this, but better!” Lydia wasn't taking no for an answer. “Now, where should we do this?”

“My Mom is always working, we could go to my house?” Scott said. Stiles appeared to like that idea as Derek could feel his relief.

“Jackson scoffed. “No way, McCall. She said better. Your house isn't better.”

He could tell this argument could go on for a while and he was already sick of it. “I know a place. If you promise it is just a small thing.” Derek knew that the only way to ensure Stiles' comfort with the idea would be if it was in a safe place. With a location selected by Derek that would surely bring him some peace of mind.


	9. Pity Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Edit:I changed the ending ever so slightly

He understood why everyone wanted this so badly but he really didn't want to go through with it. Only a week had passed since Stiles was released from hospital. Waiting until he could at least walk properly would have been a better plan.

As he was getting ready he kept glancing at the whiteboard he received from Derek. Stiles kept thinking about how ridiculous he felt having to use it. It felt like he was attention seeking. He was still talking to everyone, he just wasn't making any sounds. It was frustrating.

It was then that he started to remember what the Werewolf had told him. Time. He needed to be patient with himself, after all he was put through a lot. Stiles still hadn't brought himself to write a statement of all the events that took place in the basement. Whenever he sat down to his notebook he couldn't bring himself to voluntarily think about it. To re-live it. He could tell his Dad was getting impatient, it was an important document for the case.

Why had he agreed to this party? The thought of it made him want to curl up into a ball and never leave his bed. Furthermore, why had he told them he would travel alone?He wasn't ready to leave the house at all, especially alone. Stiles knew that Gerard was gone and no one is likely to harm him. His trust and faith in humanity had plummeted.

He could no longer put it off. He had to leave now or he'd be late to his own party. Stiles did wonder if he could just not show up, it wasn't like he was going to be the soul of the group. But the thought of upsetting everyone was enough to motivate him to go. 

The stairs were too much of an obstacle to walk down. His Dad laughed off the suggestion of a stair lift. A cheaper solution was to revert to his childhood and bump down them.

Upon opening the front door, any anxiety he had about travelling alone vanished. The sight of the Camero filled him with joy. Stiles had always wanted to go for a ride in Derek's car, but the Alpha was more protective of it than he was his own pack.

He made his way to the car as fast as his injuries would allow and opened the passenger door. If the sight of Derek in his leather jacket and sunglasses wasn't enough, it was accessorized with a smile. Stiles felt the heat rise to his face as he took this sight in. He got into the car, masterfully ungraceful. 

**You do have a heart, Tin Man!**

Derek removed his sunglasses to roll his eyes, his smile shrank accordingly. There was only a feeling of slight regret over his comment, but he couldn't resist. 

“You can walk if you'd like, Dorothy.” The smile made its reprise, causing another flush of Stiles' cheeks. He used the act of belting up to try and hide it.

**Don't be such a Sourwolf**

His heart raced as Derek started the engine. This car was awesome. Stiles looked around the car's interior with wonder, whilst the older man drove. He now understood why Derek hadn't wanted to take it to the club.

“Are you alright?” The Werewolf had evidently heart the elevated heart beat, he looked over in concern.

 **You're car is AWESOME!!** Stiles grinned as he held up the message. Derek chuckled when he glanced at the message, trying to keep his eyes on the road.

They pulled up outside a building Stiles didn't recognise. Derek hurried out of the car and opened the passenger door, giving Stiles a hand to get out.

“This is my new place.” Derek said, reading the look of confusion on Stiles' face.

It was a good think there was an elevator, he had a feeling Derek would draw the line at piggybacks. This new place was on the top floor of the building so stairs would have been a good excuse to leave. It was nice. Especially in comparison to the previous derelict places the wolf had lived.

He was very aware of the fact Derek had been watching him, waiting for his opinion. **I like it. It's very Batman.**

“Why did I know you'd say that?”

Stiles just winked at him as he sat down on the sofa. He wanted to ask why this party was happening but he didn't want to offend Derek. He was being so nice to him and strangely supportive. More supportive than the rest of them. He wrote out the question a few times before holding it up for the Werewolf to see.

***************

Derek was walking back from the kitchen, with two drinks, when he saw the message. “I think they all feel guilty for what happened.” He said, placing the drink on the coffee table. “I don't think they realise the repercussions to what happened, they think a party is something you'd like to feel back to normal. I told them to at least wait until you could walk properly. But when do I ever get listened to?” Although he tried to sound bitter, Derek's tone came out as fairly amused.

**It's not that I'm not grateful, I just didn't get it.**

He knew it was too soon. “I could text everyone and tell them not to come?”

Stiles frantically shook his head as he wrote his next message. **God, no! That would upset them**

“Just think of it as a house warming instead? Might take some of the pressure off?”

With a struggle, Stiles rose from the sofa. **Good idea. Thanks.**

Derek stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “It'll be ok. If at any point you want to leave, just give me a sign.” Stiles nodded grimly. 

**When I'm with people I want to be alone. But when I'm alone I want people around.**

At this Derek reached out and took Stiles' face in his hand. His thumb grazed over the corner of the younger man's mouth. He knew exactly how he felt. Both of their hearts were hammering in their chests. They looked into each other's eyes. “Stiles, I –“

They started to lean in, interrupted by a banging at the door. Leaping apart from each other they tried to act natural as Derek went to open the door.

“It's party time, Bitches.” Erica exclaimed, holding up bottles of alcohol. She winked at Stiles before headed towards the kitchen.

One by one the members of his pack arrived, each of them complimenting the loft. The last to show up were Scott and Allison, the latter looking extremely nervous. Derek glanced over to Stiles who was beaming as Isaac was telling him a story.

“Guys” Derek called for attention. “This is our new base. Erica, Boyd, and Isaac, you each have a room. Feel free to fight over them when this thing ends.”

Boyd and Erica high-fived each other other and Isaac got up to thank him. Lydia pulled out a docking station and started to play some music that Derek had never heard before.

He couldn't help overhearing Allison and Scott's conversation.

“Allison, it's ok. I told you he wants you here.”

“I don't think I can do this, I'm the reason he is like this. I mean it was my Grandfather.”

“Your Dad is the reason we found him!”

There were tears swimming in her eyes. Derek understood why she was upset but excluding herself from the group won't help her guilt. Her being here was important to Stiles, which is what made Derek approach the young Argent.

“You know, when they first suggested this 'Party'. The first thing Stiles asked was if you would come. Pushing him away is helping no one, in fact you are making it worse.” This came out a lot harsher than it was intended, he was incredibly bad at this. Perhaps it would serve as a wake up call instead of comfort.

Scott opened his mouth to stand up for her, clearly not happy with the Alpha's tone. Allison placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “You're right. I'm being stupid. Selfish.” She nodded at Derek, taking a deep breath. “I should go talk to him.” As she walked away Scott gave him a look that asked: 'How?' Derek's reply came in the form of a shrug. He honestly didn't think that would work, he was expecting an argument. 

************************************

Stiles saw Allison arrive with Scott, he was glad she didn't let what happened to him come between the two love-birds. Out of the corner of his eye he watched the interaction between Scott, Derek and Allison. Isaac was telling him a story of Scott getting smacked in the face with a Lacrosse ball. As she approached him, Isaac left to go talk with Erica and Boyd.

“Hey, can we talk – I mean, yeah, can I talk to you?”

He really hoped this wouldn't be as awkward as he imagined. Stiles smiled up at her as he nodded. She evidently wanted to talk away from prying Werewolf ears, which meant he had to get up. With a struggle, he got to his feet and followed her out of the room; whiteboard under his arm.

Once outside the loft space Allison turned to him and braced herself for what she wanted to say. “Stiles, I don't even know where to start.” Fresh tears appeared in her eyes and her voice croaked. “I'm so sorry for what my family has done to you.”

Comforting someone was hard when you had to write your responses. The time taken to write would have filled anyone with anxiety about what he would say.

**Allison, you don't need to apologise. You didn't do anything.**

“Look at what he's done to you. Every time I see you I'm reminded about how much pain my family have caused. And the last thing I want is to be a reminder for you about what happened.”

He wrote as she spoke. **You are not your family! Your Dad is the reason I was found. Blaming yourself, dumping Scott and avoiding me is just going to make you feel worse.** Stiles had to write small to fit the whole message onto the board. 

“But Stiles –“ This was when she really started to cry. He pulled her into a hug, complete with an awkward sway. It was odd having to console someone over something that happened to yourself.

 **I don't blame you. Please don't punish Scott because of me. He's been insufferable.** He was going to make a joke about Scott being torture, but thought it was too soon. Together they re-entered the loft space. 

Everybody was deep in conversation when they returned. There was an air of someone having said 'Act Natural' before they opened the door. Stiles made his way back to his space on the sofa beside Isaac. He watched as Allison made her way to Scott and kissed him. Stiles winked at his best friend when he was met with a bemused Scott.

“Are you guys ready?!” Erica stood as she addressed the room.

“For what exactly?” Non surprisingly it was Derek who asked this.

“Flip, sip or strip.” Lydia said, matter of factually. “It's a drinking game.”

“Not to repeat myself from the last time, but you aren't old enough to drink.”

“We're 18. We could drink in England.” Jackson offered.

“Go drink in England then.” This remark from Derek caused the room to explode in laughter, which in turn made Jackson flush.

“What if we replace the 'sip' with dare?” Isaac's suggestion was met with a great response, much to Stiles' dismay. He really wasn't ready for this. Any other time he would be the one to go first.

“Ok, so the rules.”Erica rubbed her hands together. “We go around clockwise, flip a coin and you call it. If you are right the person to your left takes a shot --” Derek gave her a look. “-- I mean, does a dare or strips. In turn if you lose you have to do it. Everyone got it?”

They all mumbled their answers. “Good, I'll start.” Lydia retrieved a coin from her purse. “Heads.” She was right. “Dare or strip Jackson?”

“Strip.” At this Erica started whooping. “Relax, it's just a shoe.” He placed the shoe on the coffee table and took the coin from Lydia. “Tails.” He was wrong.

“Derek, you have to ask him 'Strip or Dare'”

This was met with an eye roll. “Fine, strip or dare?” The Alpha was already done with this game and it had barely started.

Jackson started to take off his other shoe, which was greeted with boos from the majority of the group. “Fine. Dare.”

“Great now I have to think of a dare.”Stiles watched with fondness as Derek tried to think of a dare, a rush of warmth washed over him. “I dare you … to … Take off your shoe?” Stiles couldn't help but face palm. It shouldn't be possible for a guy who looks as good as Derek to be this lame.

“Sold!” Jackson laughed before removing his second shoe and placing it with the first. “Your turn.” He tossed the coin to Derek.

Again Stiles couldn't help but stare at the Alpha as he moved. Derek tossed the coin and called out “Tails”. He was correct. “Dare or strip, Boyd?”

“Dare.” Boyd smirked, enjoying the expression on Derek's face. “A better one than Jackson's though.”

“I dare you to sit in Jackson's lap til your next turn.”

“Why punish me?” Jackson interjected. 

“Because you annoy me.” The deadpan delivery nearly floored Stiles.

“Cool.” Boyd sighed as he got up and made his way over to Jackson. As the latter was sat on the floor, Boyd decided to sit in-between his legs. “Lets not mess up the order though.”

He called the coin correctly and dared Erica to lick someone's foot. She picked Lydia as she was most likely to have the cleanest. The game made it's way around the group twice before the incident occurred.

“Dare.” Derek tried to look like he wasn't enjoying himself but Stiles saw straight through the facade.

“Hit me with one of your best pick up lines.” Jackson smirked.

“Jackson, are you a software update? Because not now.”

Although he had heard this so many times, it was the last thing he expected to hear from Derek. After a beat everyone fell about laughing, even Stiles let out a bark of laughter.

Realising what had just happened sparked the start of an attack. This had been the first time since the basement that Stiles had made a sound. Luckily this went unnoticed by all except two. Scott and Derek glanced at each other before turning their attention to Stiles.

The last thing he wanted was to make a scene, but he needed to leave. He stood up suddenly and reached for his crutches, his eyes fixed on the exit. Once he was outside the loft and the door was closed, he leaned against the the wall and slid to the floor. His knees drawn to his chest, he tried to control his breathing.

******************************

He knew it was too soon for Stiles. He motioned to Scott to distract the others as they now all noticed the absence. Instead of doing what he said, Scott followed Derek to the door.

“Derek, maybe I should take him home?”

“No, go sit with the others. He probably feels embarrassed about this.”

“Yeah, so I should --”

“I'm the Alpha, I'll take care of it.” He felt the wolf bubble to the surface, eyes turning red. Scott received the message and returned to the group, all of whom watched the exchange with worry. The idea that this was too soon for Stiles finally hitting home.

Derek expected Stiles to have gotten further than he did. He got down to the floor and sat by his side. The whiteboard lay forgotten on the sofa inside the loft space. He tried to only ask yes/no questions.

“Would you like me to drive you home?”

Stiles seemed to have regained control of his breathing by himself. He kept his head to his knees as he made a nodding motion.

The Alpha arose before offering a hand to the younger man. Pulling him to his feet he smiled encouragingly. Derek retrieved the crutches from the ground and handed them to Stiles.

They made their way silently to the Camero. Once they arrived, Derek helped Stiles into the passenger seat before getting into the car himself.

“It'll be ok you know.” Stiles made a non-committal shrug. “I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did – I mean, shit.” That came out wrong. He was really bad at this. “What I meant was, these things take time and I am … Proud of you for managing to put on a brave face for so long.”

Derek started the car, words were not a strong point for him. With both hands on the wheel he got ready to pull away from the curb. Stiles reached across and placed a hand on top of Derek's, using his smile to express his thanks.

Although they drove in silence, it was not an uncomfortable one. Once they had arrived Stiles started to open the passenger door.

“Wait. I'll help you inside.”

He helped Stiles all the way up to his bedroom, offering to get him anything from the kitchen first. As he went to leave he felt Stiles grab hold of his arm. He turned to see fresh tears in his eyes, his heart was hammering.

“Please … Stay.” Stiles' voice was quiet, breaking ever so slightly.

Derek brought one hand up and cupped the younger man's face. Stiles leaned into his touch, closing his eyes. They were standing extremely close together, their foreheads touching. “Of course.” Derek breathed before bringing their lips together for a soft lingering kiss.


	10. Hospital Waiting Rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for such a gap between chapters! I think the next chapter will be the last, unless I am hit with inspiration aha! Enjoy~

Sunlight poured through the window and filled the room. The two of them embraced on Stiles' bed, their limbs entwined as they tried to fit on the dingle bed. Derek awoke first, he felt the pressure of Stiles' head on his chest. A patch of drool now collected on his t-shirt.

Stiles started to stir moments later, bringing his uninjured hand up to wipe away the drool. All Derek could do was watch him fondly. He looked so fragile, so innocent, in this moment.

“G'mornin--”

“Good Morning.”

“What time?” Sleep had not fully left Stiles, but he was glad he was talking more.

“It's almost 7.” Derek watched Stiles' facial expressions go through the motions. It looked like it was still difficult for him to find his words. “Hey, don't push yourself to talk. It's ok.”

“I feel...” Stiles pushed himself into a sitting position, separating himself from Derek. “Safe … Around you.” His voice got quieter towards the end of the sentence as he looked away sheepishly.

Derek was so bad at this. It would be funny if the situation was different. What was he supposed to do? He sat up and placed a hand on Stiles' shoulder. “I'm here for you.” God, he was bad at this.

Smiles turned and smiled at him, reaching for his pillow, he threw it at Derek's face. “Lame.”

It was really refreshing to hear Stiles laughing again, it instantly lifted his spirits. He never realised how much he loved the sound and the way his face lit up. He couldn't help but smile. “Aren't you returning to school today?”

He immediately regretted this question as he watched Stiles' eyes widen in a mix of fear and shock. “ Crap. I just need to do something.” His voice was small, the opposite to how he was before. “Can you help me? What time is it now?”

Derek nodded. “Of course I can help you and it's 7:03.” He watched as Stiles hobbled over to his desk, not bothering with his crutches. He waved his bandaged hand to beckon him over. As he approached he saw the blank police statement on the surface. “Stiles, I don't think I'm allowed to help write a statement?”

Stiles shook his head, biting his lower lip. He was struggling with something internally, which was evident from his facial expression. “I just … Can you … Sit with me?” His hands were trembling slightly as he held the pen above the page.

Pulling up a stool that was under the desk, he sat next to Stiles as he wrote. He read the words that spilled over the page. What he read was horrific. As the statement progressed so did Stiles' shaking and Derek's anger. He reached out and held his hand gently; the only free hand was full of broken fingers.

Rage filled him. The Argent's has caused them both so much pain. He was glad that Gerard was dead, but he wanted to make him feel the pain he forced upon Stiles. When he reached the Argent's house his mind was solely focused on getting Stiles out of there. If he had thought about it he would have loved to have killed Gerard. Slowly.

He gave his hand a comforting squeeze when Stiles put the pen down. “Do you feel a bit better? You know, having written it down?” His eyes roved over Stiles' face desperately trying to read his emotion. He could smell the grief flowing through him, which was natural.

Again Stiles chewed his lip and thought carefully before nodding. Derek pointed out the time to Stiles. They would have to leave soon to make it on time.

Writing the statement had caused Stiles to revert backwards with his speech and Derek could tell it was frustrating him. “Seriously, don't force anything Stiles. It takes time.”

“I just want thing to be normal.” Stiles whispered. He got up and started getting ready for class, leaving the room to get washed and dressed. Whilst he was away, Derek took the time to properly read over what he had written. So overcome with anger he felt the start of a shift bubble to the surface.

When Stiles reappeared Derek had to fight back the shift. “Do you want a lift?” Stiles crossed the room and rested his head against Derek's shoulder. This took him by surprise, what should he do? His body reacted before his brain and wrapped his arms around him.

“Thank you.” Stiles looked up into Derek's eyes. “For everything.”

Again, Derek's body reacted before any rational thinking took place. Placing a hand at the back of Stiles' neck, he leaned forward and kissed his forehead.

******************************

Derek drove him all the way to school. Since writing the statement, his mind felt freer to wander to other things. Did Derek actually kiss him? Him? Stiles Stilinski? Maybe it was a mistake, an in the moment thing? Yeah. But before leaving he had kissed his forehead. What did that mean?

“Stiles? We're here.” Derek's voice derailed every thought travelling in his mind. “Are you sure you want to go?” Stiles nodded. “Text me if you need me at all.”

Maybe it was too soon to go to school? He could find his words with Derek, maybe even Scott, but with so many people around he wasn't sure he could cope.

“ –iles? Stiles?” Derek looked at him, his face full of concern.

“Oh. Right. Sorry.” He opened the car door and threw his backpack to the ground whilst reaching for his crutches. He made his ungraceful exit and waved goodbye.

Waiting for him by the benches was the one and only Scott McCall. He was relieved that it was just Scott and not the whole pack. Stiles couldn't quite help but compare his best friend to a puppy when they had noticed each other.

“You left this at Derek's” Scott handed him his whiteboard.

“Thanks.” He really pushed himself to speak aloud to Scott. He wanted to reach his usual self quickly.

“Dude! You spoke!” Scott was so ecstatic that he hugged him. “That's so great! My Mom said it would take ages before you would.”

“It's still … Early … It's … Hard.” He really wished he was able to speak without pauses.

“I get it, try not to push yourself.” Stiles tried hard not to roll his eyes, he had been told this by just about everyone. “I was reading up on Selective Mutism. I also asked my Mom what I could do to help you. She said it just takes time, start off with people you can trust. I'm really touched you can talk to me! I'm here for you, man.” Although he was really touched by Scott's words, it was his sworn duty to stop the sincerity. 

“Don't start crying on me now, I'd rather be back in the hospital.” That was probably too far, maybe he should go back to writing? He brought his hand up to his mouth as if it would erase the words that escaped.

“Stiles!” Scott looked extremely worried now. “Don't worry, use the whiteboard. I'm pretty sure that's what all the teachers are expecting.”

He nodded and made his way into the building. Scott by his side, carrying his backpack to make walking easier. He was fed up with crutches, especially when they are combined with broken fingers.

Upon entering the school he felt everyone stare at him. He tried to assure himself that it was in his head, but this failed when he heard them all whispering and pointing out his injuries. The facial injuries had faded, thank goodness, but the broken bones were an obvious sign.

“We've got Finstock first, c'mon.” Scott pulled at his sleeve to guide him away from the curious eyes of students.

This really was a bad idea, he should have listened to Derek. Derek, who he had kissed. Derek, who hugged him and told him he was going to be ok. Derek, who saved his life.

“Stiles? We're here man. Are you sure you are alright?”

Stiles snapped out of his internal monologue and nodded to his best friend. He made a mental note to ask him his thoughts on what happened. He probably won't want to hear about it, but the amount of Allison crap he had to listen to, he was going to. 

They made their way to their desks, Stiles trying hard to ignore the whispers from the few students already present. Coach Finstock approached him, making Stiles fill with dread. Usually he can hold his own with Finstock's remarks but he really wasn't in the mood.

“Stilinski. Let me know if you need anything, or if you need to leave at any point please do.” Stiles was completely caught off guard by the nicety of the coaches comments. All he could do was nod. “Welcome back, and I hope you recover soon. The team needs you at your best.” With this he walked back to the front of the classroom.

Scott gave him a bemused look and shrugged. Maybe the day would go a lot better than he originally thought. 

Throughout the day he realised that he was never left alone. If it wasn't Scott, it was another member of the pack walking alongside him. Even Jackson walked him to one of his AP classes. He was grateful for this since the other students were not exactly subtle whenever they saw him.

Their final period was Chemistry with Mr. Harris. Thankfully every member of the pack was in this class, as he dreaded the remarks from Harris. Sure, he was nice to Jackson after what happened to him, but he liked Jackson. Harris had never even pretended to like Stiles.

“Finally, you decided to grace us with your presence, Mr. Stilinski.” Came the snide remark as they all entered the class room.

“He was in the hospital.” Isaac made the mistake of rising to the bait. “Sir.” he added after receiving a stern look.

“I am aware of that Mr. Lahey, thank you. If you could all take your seats.”

The rest of the lesson went by fairly slow since it was a pop quiz and Stiles has missed the topic section. Instead of taking this time to fill the gap in his education, he decided to over analyse everything that had happened to him. However this was interrupted when Harris started to collect the papers.

“I have to say, this has been the nicest lesson I've had with you in this class.” Harris exclaimed as he approached Scott and Stiles' desk. “If only you had lost your voice sooner.” These words stung like a smack across the face. He knew Harris was a dick, but this seemed too far; even for him. He had to subtly restrain Scott from punching the teacher.

“What a horrible thing to say!” Unexpectedly, this remark came from Allison. “How dare you?!” She was breathing heavily and shaking, with what Stiles assumed was rage. He hadn't seen Allison like this before. It was sightly terrifying. 

“Detention, Argent.” Scott started to shout his protests. “You too, McCall. Anyone else?” With this he walked away, dismissing the class.

“Don't worry about it.” Scott said when Stiles turned to him. “He's an ass and I could tell you wanted to put him in his place. I'll see you tomorrow.”

Leaving behind the Allison and Scott, the rest of the pack exited the classroom. Once they had reached the outside Stiles saw his Father waiting by his patrol car. Relief was an understatement.

He didn't care how old he was or that he was on the school site, he was getting a hug from his Dad.

“What's happened? Let's get you home?” The Sheriff was clearly taken aback by his Son's behaviour. He helped him into the car and drove him home.

Upon entering the house, the Sheriff declared that he was going to make them a nice dinner. He instructed Stiles to go and get cleaned up. Again, Stiles decided that the easiest way to travel upstairs would be to crawl, leaving his crutches in the lounge. 

Staring at him from his desk was the statement he had written that morning. It had been an extremely long day. He gingerly picked it up and stared blankly at his own words. He didn't want his Father to read it, but it was necessary. He brought the statement downstairs and made his way to the kitchen. 

“I was thinking burgers and curly fries, what do you thi –“ Stiles held out the sheet of paper, his hand trembling slightly. His Father looked at him questioningly but crossed the room to retrieve the page.

Stiles watched the journey of his Dad's facial expressions as his eyes scanned the page. The Sheriff slammed the paper face down onto the table and pulled his Son into a hug. 

“I'm so sorry, Dad.”

******************************************************

A week or so had passed since Derek had kissed Stiles. Surely it didn't mean anything? It was just an in the moment thing, right? Neither of them had mentioned it since and there was no awkwardness between them. Maybe he misjudged Stiles' feelings and he didn't feel the same way? Stiles was probably just too polite to say anything.

Erica and Boyd were out for the day. He was starting to think there was something going on between them. Derek made his was to the living room area, hoping to start his work out. Instead he was greeted with the sight of Isaac.

“Hey Derek, would it be alright if I go help Scott in the vets?”

“You know, Isaac, I'm your Alpha. Not your parent.” This always confused him, the pack always made him out to be so much older. “I'm only a couple of years older than you guys.”

“Oh I know! I just wanted to make sure it was cool with you.”

“Yeah, it's fine?”

“Could … Er … Could I get a lift?”

There it was. The true reason for asking permission. He sighed. “Fine. Let's go.”

He couldn't be mad at Isaac, he was secretly his favourite Beta. He was more like a younger brother. He dropped him at the clinic, telling him to make his own way back. He wasn't a taxi service. The need to start his work out was growing, so he hurried back to his apartment.

He finally got ready to start his routine when his phone started to vibrate. He was going to ignore it, but he noticed that it was a message from Stiles. Derek moved embarrassingly fast towards his phone.

_S: Can you take me to the hospital? Pretty Please?_

Derek immediately started to worry. He rushed to reply when a second message came through.

_S: I'm fine!! It's an appointment and I still can't drive!! I don't want my Dad to take anymore time off work_

Relief washed over him, thank God he was alright.

_S: You also have a nice car ;)_   
_S: Don't worry if you can't!! I'll get a cab!_

_D: I'll be there in 10 mins._

He rushed to get changed into clothes more acceptable for the public eye and made his way to his beloved car. The journey to Stiles' was short. He pulled up outside and got out to knock the door. Usually he'd just wait at the curb or honk his horn. He wasn't sure what made him walk to the door.

Stiles seemed just as surprised as Derek. “Are you ready?” Stiles nodded and headed towards the Camero. With a helping hand from Derek, he was in the car.

“Thanks, you weren't busy were you?”

“No, I was just going to read.” He wasn't quite sure why he was lying. “What's the appointment?” The answer came in the form of Stiles waving his bandaged fingers around.

It took a few minutes to find a parking space but they made it on time. Once inside they only had a short wait before being called up.

“Excuse me, are you family?” The Doctor asked as Derek tried to enter the room behind Stiles. “You'll have to wait outside, sir.”

“I'll be right outside, ok?” Stiles seemed to visibly shrink. He grabbed Derek's sleeve and shook his head slightly.

The Doctor noticed this interaction and sighed. “Given the circumstances, I'll let you in on this occasion.” Relief washed over Stiles, his grip on his sleeve lingered longer than necessary.

“Ok, Mr. Stilinski, have a seat. You too, Mr? Hale? Take a seat.” She pointed to the chairs before sitting herself. “How're you doing?”

Derek could hear Stiles' heart racing, he glanced over at him expecting to see a panicked expression. He was shocked to discover him smiling as he nodded.

“I've sent off your referral forms for counselling. Unfortunately it will take a few weeks to be processed.” 

It didn't make any sense to Derek for such a long wait to see a counsellor. If you needed help now, waiting would surely make the problem worse.

“Let's focus on your physical injuries today. I'm just going to check over your ribs and cheekbone. Then I'll send you off for X-rays. Could you remove your shirt?”

Suddenly Derek felt extremely awkward. Should he look away? Was it ridiculous to look away? He didn't want to stare but he didn't want to be obviously looking away either.

When he did look over he saw the hints of bruising still evident upon his torso. His mind flashed back to the statement he watched Stiles write and glared at the bruising.

“It is healing nicely. How's the pain?”

Stiles cleared his throat. “–t's ok.” He caught Derek's eye and winked at him. It amazed him how strong he was. This must have been horrible for Stiles. The injuries being a constant reminder of the events in the basement, and yet he was trying to make him laugh.

After a quick check of his cheekbone she let him out his shirt back on. The Doctor wrote a slip to send with them to the radiography department.

“Ok, so you go to the end of the hall and turn left. Then just follow the signs. I'll see you back here when you're done.” She smiles at them and sent them off.

“I have a broken foot and they make me walk all the way down here.” Stiles was muttering. He was about to turn right at the end of the hall.

“Erm … Stiles?” Derek pointed to the sign pointing left. This was greeted with an eye roll. It was evident that Stiles was starting to get frustrated again. He wasn't entirely sure how to make it better. “Is there anything I can do?”

Stiles shook his head grumpily but there was a slight blip in his heart beat; a common tell tale of a lie. Derek eyed him warily, he couldn't believe he was about to ask this.”Do you want a … Erm … A piggyback?”

Stiles' face instantly lit up as he started to laugh. Derek would have regretted the offer if he didn't enjoy the sight of him laughing. He only enjoyed it because it was it meant he was getting better, right? Not because he loved the way his eyes crinkled at the corners or the shape of his mouth.

Derek looked away, he felt his cheeks burn with redness. “Sorry” Stiles said, bringing his uninjured hand up to his mouth. Something that happened every time Stiles managed to speak. “Just the image of it is hysterical,”

He couldn't keep up the glare. He felt the corners of his mouth turn up. “The offer is expiring.” Derek went to walk on but was stopped by Stiles accepting the offer. He took his crutches in his right hand and crouched slightly in front, so that Stiles could hop onto his back.

As they started to walk, Stiles started to laugh quietly again. “Giddyup.” He snorted into Derek's ear, causing him to laugh along too. They made their was towards the x-ray waiting room, taking the corners faster than you should in a hospital.

“Excuse me! This is a hospital, not a playground. What are you doing?!” A nurse shouted at them just before they reached their destination. Stiles attempted to hide his face behind Derek's head. Where his cheat was touching Derek's back he could feel the hammering of his heart. 

“Sorry. My friend struggles to walk. I was ju–“

“We have wheelchairs, you could have requested one at reception.”

“Well, that's less fun.” What possessed him to say this, he wasn't sure. Maybe he was trying to make up for Stiles' silence. He could feel the silent shakes of laughter behind him.

The nurse raised their eyebrow and said. “Well, just be careful and slow down.” They walked away and handed over the slip to the radiographers receptionist. 

Derek deposited Stiles into a chair, placing the crutches beside him. Once seated Stiles leant over and whispered “That's less fun?” A hint of laughter in his voice.

He brought a hand up to her temple and shook his head. “I realy don't know.”

This waiting room was empty, besides the two of the,, which meant Stiles was able to talk comfortably. However as more patients started to fill up the seats, Derek saw Stiles revert back into silence.

After waiting for half an hour they both started to get restless. Derek decided to check at the reception to get an idea of how much longer they needed to wait. The receptionist was maddeningly unhelpful.

Upon his return to the chairs, Stiles had brought out the whiteboard. They played a couple of games of tic-tac-toe and hangman before Stiles' name was called.

Derek wished he had the hindsight to bring a book to read whilst he waited. Luckily, the x-rays didn't take too long and they made their way back to the original waiting room. Deciding it was better to walk than repeat the antics before, it was a slower journey.

Again they waited. It felt like they had been in this building for years. In reality it had only been about 2 hours.

“Mr. Stilinski?”

For a final time they made their way into the Doctor's office.

“Good news, your fingers have healed nicely and we can remove the dressings, However, your foot still requires a few more weeks to heal.”

She showed him some exercises for him to do to improve movement once the bandages were removed. 

They got back to the car and sat in silence for a moment. Both relieved to be out of that building. Finally.

“Freedom!” Stiles exclaimed, wiggling his fingers. The previously broken ones moving more stiffly than the rest. 

“Yeah, lets get out of here.”

Even though they were both happy to be leaving the hospital he could sense a sadness in Stiles. He tried to think what else could be causing it. Then he realised, Stiles would be going back to an empty house. His Father was in work and so was his best friend. “Do you want to come over?”

******************************

He was so glad that Derek invited him over. He really didn't want to go back to an empty house. Stiles looked across at Derek and was filled with an unfamiliar sensation. Gratitude? Fondness? More? Everything? If he had to reduce it to one word, it would be bubbles. Bursts of happiness but inside his stomach. Uh-oh.

Now he was thinking back to the kiss they shared a week ago. Does this mean these feelings are mutual?But why would Derek Hale like him? Perhaps it was pity?

“Stiles? Why are you staring at me?”

Crap. “Oh … Sorry. I was staring into space.” Nice recovery.

They arrived at Derek's apartment. Now that Stiles had realised his feelings were more than skin deep, he suddenly felt extremely nervous. 

He sat on the couch, his mind full of a hundred different thoughts. He dove for the TV remote, this might distract the keen Werewolf senses against weird behaviour. Well, weirder behaviour.

“What's wrong?” Derek was eyeing him suspiciously, whilst lightly hitting him with a coke can. Stiles took the drink and started to drink to avoid the question. This earned him a famous eye roll. “Did you want to watch a film?” 

A film would be the perfect distraction without the pressures to talk. He nodded enthusiastically and watched with affection as Derek retrieved his laptop from beneath the sofa. Stiles raised an eyebrow in question.

“Nothing is safe when you live with Erica. Plus I don't own any DVDs.” Once logged on he put the laptop on the coffee table and turned the TV off. “What do you want to watch?”

“You have Netflix?” Words always seemed to flow when he was around Derek. He hoped that this meant he was close to recovery, but whenever he was around strangers or large groups, silence found him again.

“I'm not a caveman or however it is you see me. Plus Erica set up a house account.”

They scrolled through the selection. Stiles swore that it takes longer to chose a film than watch it. “We could watch a series?”

Again they scrolled through, this time looking at the TV shows. Stiles picked out a show called Brooklyn Nine-Nine, he had heard good things about it. The episodes were not very long, which meant they burned through them quickly. The ever so annoying 'Are you still watching?' message popped up.

They took this as a pee break opportunity. When Derek returned he got them both fresh drinks. “How much do I owe you for parking and gas?”

“No, don't worry about it.”

“I feel bad. Are you sure?”

“Of course, it's not a problem. I said I am here if you need me.” Derek placed the drinks on the table and sat back beside Stiles. “I'd do anything for you.”

Stiles was extremely taken aback by thus. No one has said this to him before. Obviously his Father would do anything for him, but that was a given. He wasn't sure anyone else would bother with him. With Scott he often took a back seat if Allison was present. “I'm not worth it.” His voice was dark and barely audible.

“That is not true, at all.” Derek turned to face him, looking intently into his eyes. “What makes you say that?” His voice was soft, as if he was afraid Stiles was break.

“Because …” Stiles looked away and started to think of how much better off people would have been without him. “I mess everything up …” He hated how his voice started to crack. “ … I'm such a burden.”

“Stiles, you are not a burden. Besides, even if you were, you're a burden I love to carry.” He brought a hand up to Stiles' cheek and turned his face towards him.

He couldn't believe it. His eyes met Derek's, he never truly appreciated them until now. Stiles leant forward, bringing their lips together. Now he knew that the feelings must be mutual. 

What started as a sweet soft kiss had deepened into something hungrier. He still couldn't believe that he was kissing Derek Hale. Or that Derek Hale was kissing him back.

Embarrassing sounds escaped him as he was pushed backwards on the sofa. Thankful that his bandages had been removed, he ram his fingers through Derek's hair. When Derek shifted his body to get on top of Stiles he knocked the table with his foot, spilling coke everywhere.

“Shit.” Derek exhaled. They were both breathing heavily but started the laugh regardless. Derek rested his forehead on Stiles'. “I should really clean that up.”

“That got sticky in a way that was totally unexpected.” This felt like the first time he had spoken normally since before the basement. Derek rolled his eyes, more affectionately than usual and headed to the kitchen to retrieve a cloth. 

Stiles picked up the cans from the floor, both of them now nearly empty. Luckily they fell to the floor and missed the laptop. The Werewolf returned with a load of tissues and cleaning products. They joked around whilst cleaning up the spillage. This is when the door opened and a confused Isaac walked in.

“What the hell happened in here?” He asked, looking between the two of them; an eyebrow raised.

“What do you think?” The Alpha responded, holding up the cleaning products.

“I think I owe Erica ten Dollars.”


	11. Chapter 11

Hi everyone!

Thank you for reading this fic! Unfortunatley I have decided to take the story in another direction so will be updating the current chapters before adding the extras and a new ending.

I hope you enjoy the updated version and thank you again!

Sorry for the wait!


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